The Traitor and The Pariah
by Chaotic-Theoretician
Summary: AU, SPOILERS. After kidnapping Skye in the aftermath of her shooting him, Lucas must coerce her into helping him once again. But as they struggle to survive, their relationship changes as they are forced to trust and rely on each other. Skye/Lucas
1. Kidnapped

**A/N:** I couldn't help it – after seeing the season finale of _Terra Nova_, I needed to write this fic. The sexual tension and innuendo between Lucas and Skye _CAN'T_ go by unnoticed. This is an AU fic, with some **SPOILERS** for the season finale.

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><p>"Let's get you back," Skye said, helping Commander Taylor to his feet. Her eyes lingered on his hand, pressed against the cloth that staunched the flow of blood from the knife wound his own son had inflicted on him. She frowned, gently turned him aside so he could start heading off towards the camp.<p>

Lucas was gone. Vanished. Nothing but overgrown foliage remained in his stead. Skye's eyes widened in disbelief. Taylor shook his head, pain that wasn't caused by his wound creeping into his pupils. He turned away, disentangled himself from Skye's helpful grasp.

"This way," he muttered, his voice faltering as he hobbled forward. At one of the towering trees, he paused for breath, glanced over his shoulder. Skye still stood motionless, the look on her face betraying her emotions.

"I shot him." Her voice was quiet, too low for Taylor to hear. "He was dead."

Taylor cleared his throat, drawing her attention away from where Lucas had fallen. "Pick up the gun," he told her, pointing to the weapon lying amongst the leaves. "We don't want Lucas to get ahold of it."

After a moment's hesitation, Skye retrieved the gun from the ground and tucked it in the small of her back, tears of frustration threatening to overwhelm her. She had killed the bastard, she was sure of it – and yet he had disappeared, no doubt to return later and cause more problems to Terra Nova than before – now that he had even more reasons to hate his father and the budding colony.

Taylor forged on ahead, determined to return to camp before nightfall, before the Slashers emerged to feast on whatever moved. Skye stared at the ground as she walked, leaves crunching underfoot with each step. Taylor hardly made any noise as he disappeared among the towering trees. He hadn't even thanked her for saving his life.

Then again, how could he thank her? She had shot his son – his _only_ son, the son of his loins, the son of his deceased wife. He was all that remained of that relationship, and she had gone and shot Lucas, made him bleed, perhaps pushed his life over the edge. With no weapon but a tiny knife, and with the amount of blood coating his face and chest, he would be dead meat by nightfall, if not sooner.

Skye knew being eaten alive was worse than almost any other death – at least, any other death out here in prehistoric times.

She looked up, saw nothing but trees and dense foliage. She stopped, her eyes glancing around, trying to gauge the territory. "Commander?" she called, her voice bouncing around her. "Commander!"

Something akin to a bird twittered nearby, the only response Skye received.

Cold steel pressed against her throat, a hand jerking her back until she pressed against something solid and warm. She tried to cry out, found her voice stuck in her throat. Her hands seized the arm holding the knife, struggled to yank the blade away from her jugular. His grip tightened, the knife drawing a line of blood across her neck.

"Oh, dear sister, don't struggle. You wouldn't want to get hurt, would you?"

Lucas's breath rolled hot over her skin, warm against her ear. Skye swallowed thickly, her heart pounding against her ribs, breath choking in her throat. Lucas breathed heavily behind her, groans of pain slipping past his throat so quiet that Skye had a hard time hearing them. Moisture seeped through her clothes as his wounds wept across the fabric. The stubble of his beard scratched roughly against her cheek as he forced her to turn around in the opposite direction, away from the camp, away from any chance of survival.

"You are coming with me," Lucas hissed, his anger finally creeping into his voice. "I'm sure our _father_ won't notice. You're a traitor anyway – he should've banished you the moment he found out."

"Then I wouldn't have been able to save his life," Skye managed to snap. She struggled against his again, felt steel bite her flesh again. Blood trickled down her neck, slid down her chest in a tiny, snaking rivulet.

"Oh, don't worry." Lucas pushed her forward, winced as pain lanced through his chest. "Next time, you won't be there."

"You sure about that?"

Skye's elbow slammed into his chest, knocked the breath out of him, made his vision flash white with pain. She ran then, sprinted away, tripped over a fallen tree. She jumped to her feet, hair whipping about her face, and raced through the trees, lungs burning as she gasped for air. A high-pitched metallic noise irritated her ears. She faltered.

The ground in front of her exploded. Dirt flew up around her as the shockwave knocked her flat on her back. The air expelled out of her chest in an _oomph_. White starbursts speckled her vision, disorientation quickly making her senseless. A tinny noise blocked out most of her hearing. Her own breathing sounded miles away, as though it were someone else's gasps for air. The thick canopy loomed high overhead, a dizzying sight that made nausea roll in her stomach.

Lucas stood over her, one hand clutching his chest, the other clutching a gun. Skye had enough of her wits about her to reach behind her and touch the small of her back. The gun was missing. How hadn't she felt it?

"Don't make this hard," Lucas growled, leaning down. "I _really_ don't want to kill you. I really don't." His jade green eyes darkened. "But I will if I have to."

His hands yanked her to her feet. The ground tilted dangerously beneath her. Legs wobbling, she unconsciously leaned against Lucas for support. The hardness in his eyes softened as he guided her forward.

"That's right," he murmured, enjoying the dazed look on her face. "This way."

Skye blinked, trying to decipher the muffled words. The world seemed so bright around her. She wondered for a moment if she had a concussion. Without Dr. Shannon to help her, she could die if it went untreated. She just prayed that the blast had only rattled her senses.

Through his pain, Lucas chuckled softly into her ear. She heard leaves and grass crunching with each step, saw trees pass by as Lucas led her away. She suddenly felt exhausted, too tired to try and fight him. The tinny noise still plagued her, an annoying high pitch that drowned out the rest of Lucas's words. His voice was just a mumble, the words too garbled for comprehension. Skye was almost sure that she wouldn't be able to hear again.

And then Lucas's voice became clear for just a moment.

"You're going to help me recover – and then you're going to help me end my father."


	2. Help or Die

**A/N:** Wow, I didn't expect such a quick response! I'm glad I'm not the only one who absolutely loves to ship these two. Trust me, it's _very_ hard for me to take this fic slow – I want to get to the good stuff already! Hahaha. x3

Enjoy!

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><p>Maybe it was the shock from the blast – maybe it was the realization that she was being held hostage – but whatever it was, the daze that shrouded Skye's mind plagued her as the sunlight waned. The first among the network of stars in the night sky appeared overhead, twinkling through gaps in the thick canopy. Slowly, the night came alive, alien sounds emerging from dark shadows. The foliage rustled; one of the many dinosaurs native to the area roared, made the hair on Skye's neck prickle.<p>

Lucas dropped her down onto a fallen tree, far from gentle as the pain that had been accumulating through the last few hours threatened to collapse him. He had enough strength to start a fire. The flames crackled to life, greedily eating the leaves and branches he had scraped together.

Skye watched through half-lidded eyes. The tinny noise in her ears had faded an hour before, leaving behind a dull ache in her eardrums. She wasn't worried now about a concussion. She didn't have a headache, though she was sure one would start soon. She could feel it nagging at the base of her skull in response to lack of drinking water. Skye's tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, drier than the fuel wood that the fire eagerly consumed.

The cold night air sent shivers rolling through her, the hair on her bared arms rising in response. It toyed with her hair, kissed her cheeks. The cold would get to her sooner or later. She could only imagine what Lucas was feeling as he managed to sit down beside her. His hands trembled, the color in his face drained from bleeding and exhaustion. His eyes fluttered close for just a moment, the arrogance in his face melting away to something akin to fear.

_I hope you get infected and die_, Skye thought, glaring down at him. _And I hope it's painful as hell_.

"I know what you're thinking."

Hearing his voice after so long made Skye jump. He hadn't talked since he had told her that she was going to help him end Commander Taylor. His voice was quiet, any and all traces of anger gone. Skye stared at him. For a brief moment – just a fleeting moment – she wondered if he really _could_ hear her thoughts. She dismissed the notion with a shake of her head. Nevertheless, her palms pressed deeply into the bark of the fallen tree trunk, the wood digging into her vulnerable skin.

Lucas's eyes fluttered open, rolled over to look at Skye. He smirked. "You're hoping I'll bleed out or get an infection."

Skye stiffened. Her fingernails dug into the bark as she forced herself to meet Lucas's gaze. The jade green eyes flickered in the firelight. The smirk still touched his lips, despite the whiteness that had crept into his skin. Skye straightened, inhaling deeply as her eyes flashed in defiance.

"I am," she agreed. "From the looks of it, you don't have much time left."

Lucas chuckled, shook his head. "I'm not like that chickenshit Weaver. I know how much time I've got left." He pushed himself closer to her, the gun lying across his lap. He reached up, seized her by the chin. Skye jerked away, felt his fingers tighten painfully on her flesh. He forced her to look at him. "That's why you're going to help me."

There was something in his eyes that unsettled Skye more than the anger and mania that raged behind the pupils. Perhaps it was the close resemblance to his father's eyes. Whatever it was, it was only there for a millisecond. With one blink, it vanished. Skye grabbed Lucas's wrist, pried his hand away from her chin. He resisted with a surprising amount of strength, his fingers once again grabbing her face – forcefully this time, without the tenderness from before.

"How am I supposed to help you?" Skye managed to say. With both hands, she shoved aside Lucas's arm and jumped to her feet. Lucas's hand was on the gun in an instant, the machine whirring as it was engaged to fire.

"Don't," he warned.

Eying the gun warily, Skye sat back down again, her mind racing. Her gaze drifted to his wounds. "I don't know anything about medicine."

Lucas snorted, shook his head. "You're quite the pretty little liar, aren't you?" Setting the gun aside, he leaned against the fallen tree, a slither of pain snaking through his chest. "I know you worked with Dr. Shannon."

Skye berated herself. Of course he would've known. When he had overtaken the colony, the information of _all_ the civilians had been given to him. Her name would've showed up on the register of the medical staff.

"Either you fix me," Lucas continued, a steel edge entering his voice, "or you die."

Skye struggled to swallow her fear. "If you kill me, Taylor will kill you."

His eyes locked with hers. "Oh, I don't think so. You see, _dad_ can't kill me. It's not in his nature – or he would've killed me back in Somalia." The lines in his young face deepened, his brow furrowing as hatred flashed in his eyes. "Besides, you betrayed him."

Skye flinched at the word. Guilt crashed over her in a massive wave that could've drowned her if not for the fact that she had saved Taylor's life – and for that, they were even.

Lucas's fingers wrapped around her wrist, yanked her down to eyelevel. His breath rolled over her lips as he spoke, his gaze hard. "If you ever want to see Terra Nova again, you'll have to help me."

Skye bit her lip, stared back as best as she could without flinching. "Promise?"

He rolled his eyes, a faint smile touching his lips. "Promise."

Pulling her wrist free from his grasp, Skye knelt down beside him and eyed the wounds. They weren't as bad as she thought. If anything, the wounds were less than half an inch deep. Her eyes drifted down to the gun on Lucas's lap. The knob setting was just beneath his thumb, but she could see that it had been set a notch or two below the highest charge. Infection was the only thing he needed to worry about.

Lucas's eyes never left her face as she unbuttoned his shirt and peeled away the undershirt to reveal the skin. Like his father, he was muscled, though he was much leaner and less defined than Taylor. The firelight danced off the blood surrounding the wound, made it look blacker than tar. Glancing around, Skye ripped off the hem of her pants and wiped the blood away. Lucas squirmed beneath her slightly, her touch much heavier than it should've been. She suppressed the urge to smirk and press harder.

Skye moved up to his face, figuring she had enough cloth left to clean up the cuts Taylor had made on his son's face. She forced herself to look away Lucas's penetrating gaze. Her skin crawled beneath his eyes as she scraped the fabric over the shallow flesh wounds. Lucas's eyes twitched as pain lanced through him, but he refused to give Skye the satisfaction of hissing. Instead, he focused on her face, on the contours of her facial structure, on the way her hair framed her face. Skye could feel his eyes boring into her skin. His breath brushed her neck, sent a shiver running down her spine.

As she wiped away the last of the blood, Skye reached down. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of Lucas's knife. He tensed, seized her hands, eyes flashing.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

Skye leaned back as best she could, unsettled by his closeness. "I need to cut open the bark."

Lucas's eyes darted to the fallen tree trunk he leaned up against. "What for?"

"For maggots, stupid," Skye heard herself say. She slipped out of his grasp, the knife still grasped in her hand. "They're like nature's sanitizers."

"I know that," Lucas snapped. "I survived out here for years."

He fingered the gun as Skye moved around him. She plunged the knife into the rotting wood, yanked until a section came away. A mass of white, writhing bodies coated the inside of the tree, feeding off the rot. Skye fought against her suddenly squeamish stomach, her hand reaching into the trunk to scoop the maggots out. The tiny bodies rolled and squirmed in her hand, sending a wave of nausea through her. Hurrying back to Lucas's side, she slapped them onto Lucas's wounds, a shudder wracking her body.

"There," she muttered. She yanked his shirt back into place over the maggots, hiding them from view. Her squeamishness disappeared as soon as the fabric covered the writhing mass.

Lucas nodded as she rocked back onto her heels and leaned up against the trunk, too. The exhaustion from the day's events dragged down on her shoulders, made her eyelids weigh heavily. She struggled to keep awake, the dancing flames lulling her to sleep.

"Your mother didn't talk about you much, Bucket."

Skye's eyes snapped open. Her muscles tensed as she heard her family nickname come from his lips. She glanced over at him, her eyes flashing.

Lucas stared into the fire, the flames casting long shadows across his face. The green hue of his eyes changed with each flicker of the fire, changing as quickly as he changed emotions. His gaze flicked in her direction, settled on her. "I think the Syncillic fever kept her from talking much."

"No thanks to Mira," Skye growled. "She barely fed her."

Lucas shrugged. "Well, at least Terra Nova has her now – and the cure." An underlying tone of mockery fringed his voice. "Must be nice knowing you saved your mother." He inhaled slowly. Something flickered in his pupils. He shook his head, returned his gaze to Skye. His brow furrowed slightly. "Your eyes are the color of a praying mantis."

Skye blinked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "What?"

Lucas shook his head. His gaze returned to the fire. "Our father took an interest in you after he thought your parents had died. Why is that?"

She shrugged. "Unlike you, Taylor has compassion. He saw an orphan who needed somebody to look after her…"

"Isn't it funny how you all keep making him seem like the best guy in the world?" Lucas gave a harsh laugh. "You obviously don't know him."

When he glanced back at her, Skye was beginning to nod off. She struggled to keep her eyes open. The fire weaved in and out of blurred vision, darkness creeping into the corners of her eyes. The last thing she saw was the frown of disappointment on Lucas's face before the darkness enveloped her.


	3. Dent in Lucas's Plans

The early morning chill caressed Skye's bared arms, but she didn't shiver. Comfortable warmth enveloped her, kept her calm. She exhaled heavily. It felt so nice to be home again, to be in her bed. It had to have been a bad nightmare. Everything was intact. The 11th pilgrimage hadn't happened yet, and Lucas hadn't stabbed Commander Taylor – and Skye hadn't shot him. The Shannons were probably alright, and Josh was probably down with Boylan. Hunter was still crushing on her – and Commander Taylor was talking to her. Everything was normal.

She shifted in her sleep. Leaves crunched in her ears. Skye frowned, her brow furrowing. Her eyes fluttered open.

Trees towered over her; sunlight filtered through the canopy, beaming down onto the thick foliage and undergrowth. Something rustled nearby, followed by a tiny shriek. The remains of a fire rested at her feet, having burned down to nothing hours before.

It all came flooding back. Skye inhaled sharply, her whole body growing rigid. The warmth that spread over her back shifted with her. She heard a sigh, felt breath roll over her neck. Lucas's arm tightened around her, pulling her closer as he murmured something incoherent in his sleep and buried his face in her hair.

If not for the sounds of an ankylosaurus shuffling around nearby, Skye would've screamed. She felt the sound die in her throat, choked up by fear and horror. Her eyes darted to Lucas's hand, comfortably holding onto her waist – way, _way_ too close to her crotch. She could feel Lucas's nose brushing against the back of her neck, felt his lips feather-soft against her skin. She cringed, a shiver clawing down her spine. It did little to disperse the comfort of his warm body being pressed against hers, however.

Gently lifting Lucas's arm, Skye rolled away, the leaves crunching loudly beneath her. As she leapt to her feet, determined to make a break for it, something yanked at her ankle. The ground came rushing up to meet her. She barely had enough to throw out her hands in defense. Dust and leaves scattered around her in a massive cloud that clotted up her nose and made her eyes water.

Lucas startled in his sleep, eyes snapping open. As the dirt and leaves settled, he smirked and chuckled despite the early hour. "Morning, sleeping beauty," he mocked, forcing himself upright. He winced as pain lanced through his chest. "I take it you're not a morning person either."

Skye shoved herself to her feet, glared down at her throbbing ankle. Sometime after she had dropped off into sleep the night before, Lucas had fashioned a rope made of vines from the surrounding trees. The thick cords had been tied around her ankle. Her eyes followed it back to Lucas, who had it wrapped around his own ankle, too. Lucas grinned at his own cleverness, reached out and tugged the vine. Skye winced, cried out as pain flared.

The smirk faded from Lucas's face. Something flickered in his eyes as he pulled himself up to his feet. He slowly approached Skye, eyebrows knitted together.

"I think I sprained it," Skye hissed, more to herself than to Lucas. She gingerly placed her foot on the ground, tried to put weight on it. Pain flared again, though less so than before. Gritting her teeth, she took a step forward. Beads of sweat coated her forehead in a metallic sheen as she fought back the pain, tears pricking behind her eyes. A second step – and she stumbled, her ankle too weak to support her weight. She slammed into Lucas, nearly bowled him over in the process.

"Damnit," Lucas growled, eyes flashing. His jaw clenched as he gripped Skye tightly and dragged her over to the fallen tree trunk. "You're going to have to walk."

Skye pushed him away, their close proximity too much to handle in conjunction with the pain. She had sprained the same ankle years before, way before she had come to Terra Nova. It was a miracle it hadn't given out sooner, what with all the running, jumping, and climbing she did when she went OTG. As she took deep, controlled breaths, she heard Lucas pacing back and forth. He was muttering to himself, his face contorted in anger and frustration. He moved a bit stiffly on his right side, feeling pain himself.

"I can walk."

Lucas stopped in front of her, hands falling to his sides. He stepped closer, peered into her face. "I'm not stupid. You can probably crawl faster than you can walk right now."

"I'm a woman," Skye retorted, unable to control herself. "I don't exactly have upper body strength."

The anger melted away into amusement. "Sassy," he murmured, smirking to himself. "I'm getting the impression you're not always like this."

"Oh, yeah? What gave it away – my voice or the sarcasm?"

Lucas chuckled, the sound rumbling low in his throat. Reaching out, he brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. Skye flinched away, unnerved by the contact. His fingers followed her cheek, held her chin so she was forced to look directly at him. His smirk deepened, the hardness in his face softening. Skye swallowed thickly, trying to decipher the look in his jade green eyes. She could've sworn she saw the whirring of his mind behind his pupils.

"This," he finally said, "puts a dent in my plans. But," he paused, smiled, "I can't just leave you here. That would make me a bad brother." He pressed his lips against her forehead, lingered there too long for comfort. When he pulled away, Skye exhaled heavily. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath.

"We'll still have to move," Lucas continued, crouching down to untie the vine from his ankle. His face contorted in pain as the wounds on his chest protested. "I'm sure the Great commander has noticed your absence. We can't let him find us – not yet."

"We won't get far," Skye pointed out, determined to crush Lucas's plans. "You're right – I can't walk on this foot to save my life."

"Do you know what a bunny is?" Lucas chuckled. "Of course you do. Well, Bucket, you're going to pretend you're a bunny – and you're going to hop instead of walk." He stood back up, began to roll the vine around his hand. "Go on, untie yourself. There's no use running now."

Hatred reared its ugly head in Skye. It must've raged in her eyes; Lucas's eyebrows arched high on his head, a mixture of amusement and surprise clinging to his features. Glaring at him further still, Skye undid the knot in the coarse vine, tossed it at Lucas's feet. He coiled the rest of it around his arm, looped it over his head and good shoulder.

"We might need this," he said, eyes twinkling. Something rustled in the trees, made Lucas look around sharply. "Let's go."

Pushing herself to her feet, Skye did her best to balance on one foot. The other ankle, though uninjured – and having never _been_ injured – was nevertheless a little wobbly. Silently cursing herself for having weak ankles, Skye hopped forward. After a few painful hops, her leg started to burn, the muscles tightening into a knot she'd never experienced before. Lucas's hand gripped her elbow, pushed her forward.

"You can't hop any _faster_?" The frustration oozed off his voice. Lucas's eyes darted around, searching the foliage for signs of unnatural movement. His grip tightened on Skye's elbow.

"It would be easier," Skye managed to say, "if I had crutches or something."

With genius comes mania – as well as paranoia. Though far from a paranoid, Lucas nevertheless felt the snake of apprehension and – dare he acknowledge it? – fear writhe in his stomach. He stiffened, fingers digging painfully into Skye's skin. He could already imagine his father on the move, directing rovers towards their location. Within an hour, they'd be on them if they didn't move fast.

"We don't have time." Lucas turned back to Skye, whipped her around. "Climb on."

Skye's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Climb onto my back," Lucas repeated. "I'll carry you."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not letting you carry me."

"Why not?"

Skye struggled to come up with a feasible explanation. "I just won't!"

Lucas's eyes darkened. "You don't have a choice."

Before she could respond, he hefted her up in his arms. His chest screamed in protest. Hissing beneath his breath, Lucas shifted the majority of Skye's weight onto his good arm.

"Put me down!" Skye pounded her fist against his chest. Sadistic pleasure made her grin as Lucas winced, pain drawing deep lines in his face.

"Stop struggling, or I'll tie you up and _then_ I'll carry you."

Skye quieted, kept her hands in her lap. She would need to have complete range of motion if the opportunity to escape arose. Nevertheless, she pulled away from Lucas as much as possible, the comfort of his body pressing against her again more than a little unnerving. She focused on her surroundings, tried to figure out where they were in regards to Terra Nova. The terrain was unfamiliar. Fear wormed itself into her heart as the realization sagged on her soul: she was lost. But at least Lucas seemed to know where he was going.

Lucas hurried forward, stepped onto the path that looked the easiest to travel. Unconsciously, he held Skye close to his chest, relishing the feel of her body in his arms. She was surprisingly light, making the journey easier. Nevertheless, after the first click, Lucas's arms were beginning to burn. He had the feeling he had reopened one of his chest wounds – the maggots writhed sickeningly against his flesh.

He paused to rest by a trickling stream. Setting Skye down on a nearby rock, he bent down beside the water, splashed some of the cool liquid on his face. Skye sidled up beside him, did the same. Despite the early hour, the humidity of the area, insulated by the thick tree canopy, made sweat trickle down both their backs. The salty perspiration stung Lucas's wounds, made Skye fidget as the sweat slowly oozed down her skin at an irritating pace.

Lucas peeled away his shirt, dipped it into the water, tied it around his head to keep cool as the sun inched higher into the sky. After a moment's hesitation, Skye shimmied out of the first of her two tank tops and followed suit. She wrapped the cloth around her head in such a way that she kept her long brown hair off her neck.

As she tied the final knot in the mock head rag, the water dripping down her neck, she finally noticed Lucas staring at her. His hand trailed in the water, his eyes focused on her face. Slowly, he surveyed her up and down, as though seeing her for the first time. Skye shifted uncomfortably, couldn't meet his gaze. A shiver snaked down her spine.

"Your hair is to too pretty to keep up."

Skye's eyes snapped to meet his, brow furrowing once again. He smiled for just a moment, his hand reaching out to touch her face again. He paused just above her skin, drew away as if thinking better of it. Wiping his hands on his pants, he stood up, stretched in an attempt to relieve the pain in his cramping muscles. Skye glanced down at the water, glanced down at her undulating reflection. Splashing water on her face once more, she straightened, wobbled on her foot. Her stomach growled as she fought for balance.

Lucas cocked his head, chuckled. "Don't worry, we'll find food soon." His eyes flashed knowingly. "I wouldn't want my little sister to starve."

_Of course you wouldn't, you sick bastard_, Skye thought, suppressing a shudder. _I hope a Slasher gets you. Or, better yet, a Carno._

"You're climbing on my back this time."

She jutted her chin out, her eyes flashing. "Aw, what's the matter? Can't take a little exercise?"

A mean smile twisted Lucas's lips. "I'd be careful what you say to me. You're very _vulnerable_ right now – aren't you, Bucket?"

Skye flinched, her brow furrowing. Nevertheless, she swallowed her pride and climbed up onto Lucas's back. She kept her grip tight around his neck, pinching off a fraction of his airflow. Her elbow dug painfully into his chest as she repositioned herself, her legs hooking around his waist. The heels of her boots pressed into his groin, eliciting a wince.

"Sorry," she muttered, smiling to herself.

They continued on in the same direction. With Skye's weight on his back, Lucas found it easier to travel quickly. He stuck to the overgrown areas where Taylor would have a hard time following, though it would be easy to track them with the amount of foliage he was breaking and disturbing with each step. Skye snagged on everything they passed by, slowing Lucas's progress and leaving a more obvious trail to follow in their wake.

"How old are you?"

"Too young for you."

Lucas's laughter rumbled through her chest, emanating through his back. Skye shifted uncomfortably, the sensation sending another one of those shivers down her spine.

"I really don't think that matters." Lucas's hands repositioned behind her knees as he hoped over low-lying, dense foliage.

Skye didn't feel like making polite conversation, but the question slipped past her lips unchecked. "How old are _you_?"

Lucas smirked. "Twenty-five."

Skye's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Only? You look like you're in your forties."

"If I didn't know better," Lucas said, "I'd say you were a compulsive liar."

"Only to you."

"I should count myself lucky." Lucas's eyes wandered to the stream. He kept it in the corner of his eye, following it through the thick underbrush. "At least you're talking to me."

Skye tried to come up with a snappy response, found that words failed her. She shifted again uncomfortably, purposely throwing her weight behind her to strain Lucas's back. He leaned forward, forced her body weight back into the right position. His hands tightened behind her knees, just hard enough to keep her in check.

"I don't like the silence," Skye lied, trying to recover.

"Then keep talking." Lucas paused beside one of the trees, turned his head to see Skye's face out of the corner of his eye. "I spent years out here with nobody to talk to. I have to catch up."

As he forged ahead, Skye struggled to find something to say. "I hear people who spend too much time in the wilderness with nobody to talk to go crazy."

Lucas nodded. "Only the ones who are too weak." He inhaled deeply, brow furrowing. "But not me. I had a reason to survive."

"To kill Taylor…?"

"To beat him," Lucas growled, his voice strained. "Killing him would just be the icing on the cake." His face darkened. "But you wouldn't understand."

"Of course not. I'm not some psycho bent on destroying what's left of his family."

Lucas went rigid beneath Skye. She could feel the anger seething through him, could feel it bubbling beneath his skin. If not for the fact she was hanging on his back, he would've thrown her down right there and screamed at her. No, he wouldn't yell at his little sister. She didn't deserve it – she didn't know the gravity of her mistake.

Since when had he been so forgiving?

His voice came out hoarse and strained instead, barely restraining his fury. "I don't have a family." He glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes flashing. "Just you."

Dread settled in Skye's stomach as Lucas continued forward. As the sun moved across the sky, her hopes of being rescued dwindled. The surroundings grew more and more unfamiliar, until she wasn't even sure in which direction they had come from. Even if she could run, she would be lost and disorientated within a few yards.

So she was stuck with Lucas and his mood swings – and his unnerving questions.


	4. Ten Moves Ahead

**A/N: **I am absolutely loving your responses! It's so great knowing that people like my story – and with such passion! Here's another update, just for you guys.

Enjoy!

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><p>Exhaustion and hunger had Lucas stop at three and a half klicks out. Setting Skye down, he couldn't help but groan as the pressure was relieved off his back and shoulders. His chest throbbed, pounded in such a way that walking itself hurt – and he hadn't even acknowledged the tension in his legs. He dropped down beside Skye, eyes lingering on the nearby stream. Skye followed his gaze, wondering what was going on in his mind. His genius brain seemed to be working all the time. Skye was sure that his mind was probably worked even while he slept.<p>

"Are we getting food now?" she asked, determined to play on his aggravated nerves. She shifted her weight, keeping as much pressure off her ankle as possible. "You promised me we'd get food two hours ago."

"In a minute," Lucas growled, waving her into silence. "We have to find it."

Skye feigned naivety. "Oh, really? I thought it just, you know, grew on trees in those little packages we get back at Terra Nova."

Lucas frowned, his eyes scanning the trees. "I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm right now, Bucket."

"What makes you think I was being sarcastic?"

He rolled his jade green eyes at her. "You're not stupid. I wouldn't have kept you alive if you were."

"Oh?" Skye's eyebrows arched in surprise. Something nagged at the back of her mind even as she spoke up. "I thought you were just keeping me hostage, that way you had something against Taylor."

"See," Lucas said, smiling as he pushed himself to his feet, "what did I tell you?" He tapped her forehead. "You're not stupid."

Skye wanted to kick herself. Lucas, with his ingenious mind, was at least ten steps ahead of her no matter what she said – unless she targeted his relationship to Taylor, of course, but that elicited anger and rage…and she wasn't very capable of dealing with those very well, not when Lucas seemed capable of splitting open her lip at the very mention of his father.

Thinking of Taylor brought to mind the times they spent on the balcony overlooking Terra Nova, the times when they had played chess. No doubt Taylor had taught his son how to play before the two had become estranged, if that was even the right term. Skye's brow furrowed, her own mind working intensely. Most games, even if she lost against Taylor, she had kept him guessing, had kept him on the run. It had started out that he would be ten moves ahead, but as time progressed and Skye had grown better at playing, the move count had diminished until Taylor was only one ahead.

She'd have to play the same game with Lucas. Learn more about him, learn how to throw him off guard, learn what his strategy was, and then she'd drop that ten-moves-ahead game to just a few, if not less. Hopefully, it would help her escape – and keep Lucas from getting to Taylor any time soon.

When Skye glanced up from the ground, her mind set on the new tactic, she found Lucas standing over the stream, his eyes focused intently on the water. Unlike the stream they had been at earlier, this one flowed much faster. From what Skye could see from her seat, silver flashed in the water, made it glint. Lucas crouched over the water, his hands cupped in such a way as to not let anything past. He stared unblinkingly at the water, waiting.

Skye didn't realize that he had that much patience. From what she had seen over the past few days, Lucas was notorious not just for his mind but for his impatience – and the anger that accompanied it.

Lucas darted forward, hands swooping down into the water. Skye jumped he thrashed and grappled with something, water spraying everywhere in dizzyingly high arcs. Skye forced herself onto her good foot, strained to see what Lucas was doing. She heard him grunt amidst the flurry of scattered water.

The splashing and thrashing stopped as suddenly as it began. Drenched from head to foot, Lucas stood in the middle of the stream, clutching something that could have been a fish, if not for the size and shape of it. Skye tried not to stare in wonder at the creature. How Lucas had managed to hold onto it while it had been thrashing for its life, she had no idea.

"Lunch," Lucas muttered, more to himself than to Skye as he climbed out of the water.

"Is that, um, safe to eat?" Skye asked. Her mind flashed back to Terra Nova, back to when Hunter had a thirty-foot parasite feeding off his intestines – all thanks to drinking unfermented "moonshine," as they called it. Having unrolled much of the worm out of him herself, Skye wasn't too keen on eating or drinking anything that would have the same kind of response.

"I wouldn't eat if it wasn't," Lucas snapped, taking offense. What did she think he was, stupid? He shoved the creature into her hands. "Hold that."

Though he was loath to do so, Lucas built up a fire – a _small_ fire – and slapped the creature onto the crackling flames. The smell of the cooking flesh would attract other wildlife, but with the gun still equipped with a full clip, there was nothing to worry about. Having survived a Slasher attack once, Lucas was confident he could survive again – if only barely.

While the creature was cooked, Lucas stripped off his shirt, revealing his bare chest. The maggots had washed off in the struggle for the creature, as had much of the dried blood. The maggots – larger, more adept versions of their posterity millions of years later – had cleaned out Lucas's wounds so well that they had already begun to heal over. Infection wouldn't set in unless Lucas reopened the wounds and left them untreated.

He draped his two shirts over a rock he had managed to drag over next to the fire. Skye watched with barely concealed interest as he stripped off his boots and socks, placing them beside the fire as well. Though she was sure she knew the answer already, Skye spoke up.

"What are you doing?"

Lucas glanced up at her, smiled. "What do you think I'm doing, dear sister?"

Skye suppressed an uneasy shudder. "Drying out your clothes."

He snapped his fingers. "Bingo. Score two for Bucket." He began to unbuckle his pants.

Skye squeezed her eyes shut. "Please tell me you're _not_ going to take off your pants."

She heard him chuckle. "I have to."

"Please don't."

"I'd relent," Lucas said, his voice hardening slightly, "but since you betrayed me _twice_, I'm not so willing to work within your comfort zone."

_Score __one __for __Lucas_, Skye thought sourly, _score __zero __for __Bucket_.

He sat down beside her with a muffled groan as the soreness in his limbs seized him. Skye opened her eyes, tried to focus on the small fire. No matter how hard she stared, she could still see Lucas in the corner of her vision. He had his head resting against the tree, his lips parted slightly, eyes closed. Skye dared to direct her full attention at him.

Relaxed, he looked his age, if not younger. The stubble on his face complemented the lean, sloped structure of his face. His unkempt hair, cut short at odd angles, proved to be quite fitting for him, even though the Slasher scars cut down the back of his head and curved towards his neck, just barely missing his jugular. Skye couldn't help but grimace; she could only imagine the pain and the fear that Lucas had felt during and after the attack.

She shook her head, tried to rid herself of the thought. That wasn't what she wanted. He was evil, nothing but a wicked, sick bastard. He had threatened to throw her mother out of the tree the first night Skye had met him – and he had stabbed his own father! There wasn't anything that Skye could pity him for. Feeling sympathy for him only made her sick.

Nevertheless, she let her eyes wander down his body. A few scars marred his flesh, testaments to the trials he had experienced while forging ahead with his plans to one-up his father and satisfy his employers' needs. The scars cut over his lean body, over the lightly defined six-pack of his abdomen. Skye had seen her fair share of beautiful men, but none seemed to come close to the way Lucas looked at that moment.

"I hope you're not thinking about stabbing me."

Skye jumped, tore her gaze away. Heat crept up the back of her neck, more so from embarrassment and self-hate than from anything else. She shook her head, fought back a cry of anger and frustration.

_What__'__s _wrong _with __me?_ she asked herself, tensing involuntarily as she felt Lucas's eyes on her. Determined not to show her vulnerability, she straightened, jutted out her chin.

"If I was?" she prompted, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

"You're smart, like I've said," Lucas replied, his eyes fixed on her, unblinking. "Right now, I'm your only chance of survival. Killing me wouldn't be…conducive to your escape."

Not that she had been thinking of stabbing him – thank God he didn't know what she _really_ had been thinking – Skye still shivered at the accuracy of his words. He seemed to know her so well, better than she knew herself.

"Besides," Lucas continued, rising to his feet once more, "killing isn't in your nature, Bucket. That's why you didn't put the gun to the highest setting, isn't it?" His eyes bored into hers, struck deep into her soul. "That's why you cleaned me up last night."

"I cleaned you up," Skye managed to say, finding it difficult to breathe, "because you threatened me."

"I'm not a doctor." Lucas bent over the fire, prodded the creature, determined it was safe enough to eat. "You could've easily plucked some poisonous plant from behind me and smeared it over my wounds. Then I wouldn't be here right now – and you'd be starving to death, if not dead yourself."

"If you were already dead," Skye retorted, "I wouldn't have sprained my ankle – and I would've been back at Terra Nova right now."

"Don't lie to yourself, Bucket." Lucas slit open the creature with his knife, cut a few slabs off for the two of them to eat. As he came over and placed a slice of the meat in Skye's hands, he leaned in until his lips brushed her ear. "You have no idea where you are."

Skye refrained from responding, knowing that, yet again, she had been outmaneuvered. Staring down at the charred meat, she bit into it. A different kind of flavor flooded her tasting senses, made her mouth water. She hadn't realized she was that hungry. She greedily bit into the meat, watched as Lucas did the same – with just a fraction more control that her. Skye didn't care. Getting the food down – and keeping it down, she realized – was more important than manners. Not that Lucas had any, from what she could tell.

"Where are we going?" she asked once she finished off the first slab.

A faint smirk touched Lucas's lips, made his eyes twinkle. "To the Badlands."

Skye stopped mid-chew. "You said that once I helped you, you would take me back to Terra Nova!"

"I never said that," Lucas pointed out, chewing on the tender flesh of the creature. "You didn't actually believe me, did you?"

Deep down, Skye knew she hadn't – not since she had first met him – but hope had made her blind to that knowledge. She glanced away, bit her lip to keep the tears from blurring her vision. She wouldn't cry in front of him, not ever. It would only give him a satisfaction he didn't deserve. Skye passed a hand over her face, wiped away the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. He had, yet again, been too many moves ahead. Lucas chewed quietly beside her, eyes focused on the profile of her face.

"You're a monster."

Lucas inhaled deeply, his eyes hardening. "Don't worry, Bucket. Your big brother will make it up to you. Just wait and see."


	5. Talk of Fathers

**A/N:** I love you guys! You are all making my day, believe me. Oh, **Unleash****Your****Inner****Self**, it's not wrong to get excited to an ungodly level when there's an update in your inbox – I get excited to an ungodly level when I see all the reviews in my inbox. x3

Enjoy!

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><p>They stopped again after another few clicks. The stream Lucas had been following had grown into a river, though it was far from rushing yet. He knew, in five or six clicks, the waters turned white as rapids replaced the tranquility the river still possessed, until the entirety of it all rushed over the edge of a 40-foot precipice. The waterfall was impressive, and he hoped to be there the next day.<p>

The clicks had seemed to stretch endlessly as Lucas's pace grew slower and slower, exhaustion effectively working its magic on his legs and back. Liquid fire burned in his limbs, made him cringe as he crouched to let Skye slide off his back.

Skye noted his exhaustion and tension with grim satisfaction. At this rate, they wouldn't get far, not if Taylor was tracking them on rovers. Nevermind that he'd have to cross through thick foliage to take the same path they were taking. With their technology and GPS system, they would most likely cut them off on their way to the Badlands.

Or so Skye hoped.

The sun was already waning, but the sunset wasn't as gorgeous as Skye had seen in movies. The light changed very little of the blue sky, in fact. Just a strong radiation of light – no scarlet, no orange, no pink, no purple. Just blue sky fading to gray.

"Pollution."

Skye glanced over at Lucas, her brow furrowing. "What?"

He nodded to the sunset. "It doesn't look pretty because there's no pollution. The pollution in 2149, when you _could_ see the sun, made all the reds and oranges. Without it, there's nothing."

Skye nodded, suddenly remembering something she had read when she had sat in the Eye one day. Lucas was right – but when _wasn__'__t_ he? Oh, yeah, when he thought he could end his father. With the way he prattled on about it every once in a while, though, Skye was growing more and more unsure. He seemed unstable enough – and determined enough – that he probably _could_ kill his father. The thought didn't bode well with Skye.

"Are we staying here for the night?" she asked, eyes once again focused on the horizon.

"We'll have to," Lucas grunted, crouching beside the river to splash water on his face. After they had finished eating earlier, he had donned his clothes again – not completely dry, but dry enough – and had replaced his first shirt on his head again. He took it off now, tossed it over to Skye. "Be a good sister and lay that out for me."

Glaring at him, Skye obliged, her eyes lingering on the gun and knife tucked in Lucas's pants. So long as he was armed – hell, so long as he was _awake_ – she had to tread carefully. And she had to diminish the amount of moves he was ahead of her.

"You've hated your father for, what, ten years?" she asked, wincing as pain lanced through her ankle.

Lucas's eyes darkened as he looked down at his reflection in the water, his face hidden from Skye's view. "Eleven."

"Eleven," Skye repeated, nodding to herself. "You've hated Taylor for eleven years. How come you haven't given up?"

"How come you never gave up on your mother?" Lucas countered, still looking at his reflection. The cuts on his face had begun to heal as well, the skin pink around the wounds as replacement skin and tissue cells slowly rebuilt the flesh.

Skye didn't reply, unsure of how to respond. Again, outmaneuvered. Next thing, she would be in check, if not checkmate – and then what?

Lucas glanced over at her, his eyes glimmering with triumph. "Hope, Bucket. Hope." He wiped his hands on his pants, stood up with a quiet groan. "That's what keeps me going."

_And __a __psychotic __mind_, Skye added, watching Lucas warily as he circled around her.

As he picked up kindling for a fire, Lucas kept her in the corner of his vision, surveying her from every angle to better understand who she was and how she worked. Just as she could see his mind whirring behind his eyes, he, too, could see her brain at work, cranking out ideas of escape – and whatever else went on within that head of hers. She had everything written in her face – especially her struggle to keep everything out of her facial expressions. It brought a ghost of smirk to his lips.

Skye hadn't spoken much since she had realized she had been lied to. Lucas had asked a few questions in order to coax her to speak, but she had responded with monosyllables, or just a few noncommittal sounds. Hearing her speak after so long was comforting, much to Lucas's surprise. He tried again to get her to talk to him.

"You're close to that Shannon boy, aren't you?"

Skye's eyes darted over to him, a frown tugging at her lips. "What makes you think that?"

Lucas regarded her with a bland gaze. "Playing stupid doesn't become you, Bucket." He touched the side of his face where a remnant of a bruise, made worse by the beating he had received from his father, remained. "He only tried to bash my face in the other night."

"He was protecting me."

"So you two _are_ close." Lucas's lips twisted into a triumphant grin. "How close, exactly?"

"We're just friends." Skye propped her leg up onto her knee, gently touched the swollen flesh to gauge the extent of the damage. She winced, but the pain had diminished considerably since that morning. "His girlfriend was supposed to come in on the eleventh pilgrimage."

"Ah, yes, the girlfriend," Lucas muttered, keeping his eyes trained on Skye's face as he arranged the kindling on the ground nearby. "What was her name? Kara?"

Skye glanced up sharply. "Why do you care?"

"Because she died, that's why," Lucas snapped. "So I guess that makes the Shannon boy free game, doesn't it?"

"That's none of your business."

Lucas's face hardened, his eyes darkening for the umpteenth time that day. "Of course it's my business, dear sister. As your brother, I have to protect you."

"Oh, yeah?" Skye's hands tightened around her leg, made pain explode in her ankle. She bit back a curse. "You aren't doing a good job, then."

"You're still alive, aren't you?" Lucas's voice had risen a few notches. "I fed you, didn't I? I watched over you for most of the night!"

"You're not doing a good job," Skye repeated, her voice harsh as the words slipped past gritted teeth. "The only thing I need protection from is you."

Lucas leapt to his feet, stormed over to her before she could react. He seized her by the shoulders, stared hard into her face, anger twisting his features. His lips pulled back in a snarl, darkened eyes flashing dangerously.

"I'm going _great_ lengths," he spat, "to keep you safe. I've fed you, I've watched over you, and I've kept you alive. I think I deserve a little more _RESPECT_!"

Skye flinched at his words, fear writhing deep within her core. Her eyes widened; she could see her terror in the reflection of Lucas's eyes, could see the fear etched so deeply into her face that her features didn't seem capable of managing any other kind of expression.

Lucas must've noticed the fear – or perhaps it was his twisted sense of brotherly love. His features softened minutely, and the fury in his voice died down to simmering anger. The dragon was reined back into the depths of its cave, eyes glinting in the darkness as it retreated. Lucas sighed, pressed his forehead into Skye's forehead. His breath rolled over her face, caressed her skin. Skye suppressed a shudder, still struggling to recover from the initial shock. His voice still rang loudly in her ears, plaguing her hearing like the tinny sound from the sonic blast the day before.

"I just," Lucas finally said, his voice controlled, just above a whisper, "think my actions aren't appreciated." His jade green eyes met hers, stared deep into the depths of her pupils. The fear still lingered there in her irises, masked only by apprehension and bewilderment. "I'd really like it," he reiterated, pulling away slightly to look at her better, "if you appreciated what I've done for you."

_You__'__ve __caused __me __nothing __but __pain __and __misery_, Skye wanted to retort, but an entirely different sentiment slipped past her lips. "Thank you…for keeping me alive…?"

The rest of Lucas's anger melted away to gratification. His lips pulled back into a smile. "That's more like it. You're welcome, dear sister."

His hands lingered on her face a moment before he finally pulled away. Skye fought for breath, realized she hadn't breathed since Lucas had screamed into her face. She reached up, wiped away the flecks of spittle on her cheeks. Lucas bent over the kindling, managed to coax a fire up. By then, the sun had slipped behind the mountains. The sky and world around them quickly plunged into darkness, save for the orange-yellow flames that licked the air.

The silence, disturbed only by the sounds of the nightlife stirring, stretched as Lucas fed more wood to the fire. Hunger drove Skye to speak first, despite her lack of appetite.

"Can I have some food?" she managed to ask, swallowing thickly as she found her voice again.

Lucas glanced up at her, smiled. He removed the few slabs of meat that remained from the creature he had caught hours before from his back pocket, heated them over the fire for a moment so they could be easier to eat. Skye took the proffered meat, tried to manage a thank you, found she couldn't form the words. Instead, she forced a weak, grateful smile and settled down beside the fire after an interesting display of contortionism so she wouldn't put any pressure on her ankle.

Lucas didn't eat right away. Skye was too busy trying to satisfy her needy stomach to notice him leave.

_CRACK._

Skye stiffened, glanced up, saw Lucas was missing. The meat suddenly tasted dry in her mouth. Her eyes darted around, peering into the darkness. "Lucas?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly. She berated herself for letting him hear her fear, worry, panic – whatever he wanted to call it. "Lucas?"

His breath brushed the back of her neck, made her jump out of her skin. The meat nearly went flying, a scream dying in Skye's throat. She gasped for air as Lucas circled around to face her, her hand pressed hard against her chest. Since when had she been so jumpy? How many times had she gone OTG? She hadn't been scared then.

But that had been during daylight, and she had been with her friends. And the one time she had ever truly been scared, the time when they had been stranded outside Terra Nova and had been attacked by Slashers – or were they Carnos? She couldn't remember right then – she had still been with her friends, people she trusted, people who wouldn't hurt her.

Lucas wasn't one of them.

He held a crudely shaped slice of wood in his hands. Only a few inches long and hardly an inch thick, it didn't seem like much. With his eyes focused on Skye's, Lucas sliced the wood into two pieces. Removing some of the vine from around his shoulder, he cut off two foot long strips of the makeshift rope. Skye focused on his hands, unable to stare him down.

"What are you doing?" she dared to ask, somehow managing to keep herself from stuttering in tune with the palpitations in her chest.

"Taking care of my dear sister."

Lucas reached out, grabbed Skye's injured leg. She flinched, yelped quietly as pain lanced through her ankle in response.

"Careful," Lucas cautioned, still keeping his hands on her. "We don't want to make it any worse than it is."

"We?"

He didn't respond. Instead, he busied himself with the wood and the short strips of vine. His hands were much gentler than Skye expected as he slid the slices of wood on either side of her ankle and strapped them to her leg with the vine. As he tightened the makeshift rope around the wood, Skye bit back a cry, tears of pain stinging her eyes. Lucas, oblivious to her pain, tightened the vines once more until he was sure they were secured properly.

"There," he said, admiring his own handiwork. "That should make things a little easier."

Skye hated to admit it, but he was right. By fashioning a splint, the sprain would heal faster – and it would make it easier for her to walk instead of hang on his back the entire way to their destination. Skye forced a semi-grateful smile, slid her foot away from him so that he wasn't touching her anymore.

"I sprained my wrist once," Lucas said, almost absentmindedly as he poked the fire with a stick and munched on his share of the meat. "Back when I still loved my father."

For once, there didn't seem to be any anger or hatred in Lucas's voice at the mention of his father. His eyes focused on the flames, unblinking, as he transported himself into the past, as he often did when he wasn't thinking about defeating his father.

Skye watched the profile of his face as he continued in a quiet voice.

"We were playing catch, if you can believe it." He chuckled in spite of himself, but it wasn't the hoarse or creepy sound Skye had expected. It was rather lyrical, just soft and cushioned enough to make him seem like a normal human being. "My – _our_ father tossed the ball to me, and I went running for it, and I tripped on my shoelaces…"

Skye swallowed the last of her meat thickly, stared down at the ground. Her voice spoke up as though it had a mind of its own. She could hear herself speaking as though her words came from another person.

"I sprained my ankle once – the same one, actually." Something akin to a rueful chuckle slipped past her lips, startling her. Lucas glanced up, his jade green eyes searching her face. "I was with my father, too."

"Funny," Lucas muttered, tearing off another piece of meat for himself, "how the best and worse memories center around our fathers."

Skye nodded. "The only difference is," she said, an edge creeping into her voice, "is that I wish my father was still alive."

Lucas's eyes darkened for just a moment – or maybe it was just the flames casting a shadow over his face. Whatever it was, it disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving Skye wondering whether or not she had imagined it. Lucas passed a hand over his face, finished off the last of his food.

"Let's stop talking about fathers," he growled, sidling up beside her. "Nothing good comes from it."

Silence descended once again, thicker than the smoke that rose up from the fire. Skye shifted uncomfortably, her ankle throbbing dully, yet persistently. Despite her proximity to the fire, she shivered. She wished she still had the long-sleeve shirt she had given to the commander to staunch the flow of blood from his knife wound. Then she wouldn't be so cold.

Lucas peeled off his shirt, draped it over Skye's shoulders. She jumped at his touch, nearly flung her arm out in defense. Though loath to take the shirt from him, the cold shivers that wracked her body kept her from refusing it. Pulling the shirt tight around her body, she couldn't help but become aware of Lucas's smell. It was a musty kind of odor, a mixture of light sweat and something else – but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. The thought unsettled Skye, made her shift uncomfortably to put distance between her and Lucas.

"So, back to the Shannon boy," he finally said, breaking the silence. "You never liked him?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Skye replied, her voice strained, "but, yes, I did – do."

"But it's unrequited."

Skye turned her face slowly to look at Lucas directly. The hint of a smirk touched his lips, but something else flickered in his pupils, made Skye fidget uneasily beneath his gaze. She swallowed thickly, tried to remember what she had originally intended to say.

"It doesn't matter."

Lucas's eyebrows arched in disbelief. "I never thought you were the kind of girl to be in denial."

Skye snorted, found she couldn't come up with a decent reply. An exasperated sigh slipped past her lips. "I really don't care anymore." She bit her lip, stared at the flames, suddenly continued talking without even realizing it. "Josh told me once that I reminded him of Kara. Well, he didn't really say it like that, but I knew it was her."

Lucas remained quiet, his face revealing nothing as his eyes lingered on Skye's profile. Skye's lips pressed into a thin line, accentuating the lines that creased her face and made her look older by almost ten years.

"I'll never be her," she said, her voice growing more and more strained. "Besides, they had a lot more in common."

"We have a lot in common," Lucas said slowly, his voice low, "even if you don't believe it."

Skye's chest tightened, a feeling akin to unease rolling through her chest and settling in her stomach. She dared to meet Lucas's gaze, found his jade green eyes to be softer than normal – as soft as they had been when he had squeezed her hand in Boylan's bar the night Josh had tried to beat him to death. A shiver crawled down her spine.

"Why am I telling you all this?" she snapped, flustered. She turned away, stared at the fire. Unease continued to claw at her soul, made her fidget.

"You'll have to tell me everything sometime," Lucas said. He reached out, placed his hand on top of hers, squeezed. Skye tried to yank her hand away, failed as he tightened his grip. He forced her to look at him. "I'm the only family you have."

Skye snatched her hand away, fear mixing with the hate in her eyes. Lucas smiled, sent a shiver coursing through her.

The night stretched on.

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><p>P.S. Boy, at the rate I'm updating, I'll burn out! But I don't want to stop! Gah!<p>

P.P.S. I just found the first Lucas/Skye video on Youtube! It's amazing! Check it out: youtube.com/watch?v=jai8owThqSE

P.P.P.S. Just to let you all know, I stopped shipping Josh/Skye when Lucas came into the picture. I'm a firm Josh/Kara shipper, despite her death. :(


	6. Protected

**A/N:** Another update for you guys, because I love where this fic is going just as much as the rest of you!

**Unknown****Broken****Soul**, thank you for correcting me on what gave Lucas the scars. I couldn't remember for the life of me. :)

Enjoy!

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><p>Skye woke up in the middle of the night, having nodded off some hours before. A shiver of foreboding coursed through her, made the hair on her arms prickle. The fire had burned low to almost nothing but embers, with just the occasional lick of fire lashing out at the air.<p>

Skye lay motionless on the ground, her breathing measured, yet shallow as fear gripped her heart. The night air cut through her clothes, cut through Lucas's shirt, which she still wore around her shoulders. Her fingers clutched the fabric closer. Her ankle throbbed, made her wince as she shifted as quietly as she could.

_Snap_.

She stiffened, throat constricting. Her eyes darted to the trees, tried to see into the darkness. If the moon was out somewhere in the sky, the thickness of the canopy blocked any of its light from reaching her.

_Crack_.

Something snorted, huffed. Something…huge.

"Lucas?" Skye called, her voice thin and wavering. She didn't feel his presence, didn't feel his eyes on her like normal. "Lucas?"

Silence.

She swallowed thickly, found her mouth was paper dry. A shudder wracked her body, her eyes growing wide. Something moved in the darkness, kept to the shadows.

Another huff, like that of a dog – only bigger and menacing.

Maybe Lucas had fallen asleep. That would explain why the fire hadn't been kept up, why he wasn't responding to her now. Maybe he had gone off to use the toilet.

Maybe something had got him.

_Good __riddance_, Skye thought to herself, but the thought only made her more nervous. But why did she care? Because he had the gun, that's why. Because he knew how to get her back to Terra Nova. That's why.

"_Killing __isn__'__t __in __your __nature, __Bucket.__"_ Lucas's words rang ominously in her ears, made her cringe. He was right. She wouldn't wish death on anybody, not even him – not yet, anyway.

The darkness moved again. The sense of being miniscule washed over Skye, made her curl even more so into the fetal position. Her knees touched her chin. She couldn't see worth a damn, could barely see the dirt in front of her nose, but she refused to close her eyes. That had only made things worse when she was little, when she was afraid of creatures under her bed or in the closet. Turning on a light usually scattered her fears back then.

But Skye had the feeling that if she could see, she wouldn't like what waited for her.

The dinosaur – Slasher? Carno? Nicoraptor? – took another step forward, inhaled deeply through its nose. Skye stiffened, tried to keep her heartbeat under control. It pounded so hard against her ribs, against her ribs, that she was sure the dinosaur, with its acute hearing, could hear her despite the darkness. It could smell her, no doubt – could smell the fear mingled with the sweat and blood from Lucas's shirt.

A strange, guttural sound erupted from the darkness in the direction of the dinosaur. Skye's breath hitched in her throat.

"Lucas?" she squeaked, hoping that he was being sadistic and playing mind games with her.

The guttural sound increased. Skye could feel it shaking the ground, could feel the vibrations in her own chest. The dinosaur had to be closer than she thought originally – unless he really _was_ that big, in which case, she was no doubt dealing with something that could squash her without meaning to.

It roared.

"_LUCAS!_" Skye screamed, throwing her hands up over her face.

A sonic blast ripped through the night, exploded against the dinosaur's chest. The sound made her scream louder, made her rigid with fear. Eyes squeezed shut, Skye didn't see the blast, didn't see it illuminate the darkness for one moment, didn't see the Nicoraptor's huge teeth or the bloodlust in his eyes. The dinosaur reeled, fell away. It hissed, retreated back into the trees.

Hands seized Skye. She screamed again, thrashed as images of Max, one of her friends, being attacked by a Slasher on one of their OTG excursions rose up in her mind's eye. The fear gripped her. She could still hear the screams, could see the light bursts from the guns she and Josh had been using against the Slashers.

"Shh," Lucas hissed. He leaned over her, held her close, gun held out in front of both their bodies at the Nicoraptor. It paced back and forth restlessly, burned but not entirely frightened of Lucas's weapon. It hissed again, roared at Lucas.

At the moment, feeling Lucas's body pressed tightly against hers didn't bother Skye. Fear kept an iron grip on her, kept her from reacting to anything but focusing on Lucas's voice. He whispered against her ear, his stubble tickling her skin.

"Nicoraptors aren't scavengers."* Skye felt his lips tug into a frown against her earlobe. "If you play dead, it will most likely go away."

"Most likely?" Skye swallowed thickly, squeezed her eyes shut again. Images of blood, of ripping flesh, of high-pitched screams danced behind her eyelids. "I don't want to die," she heard herself say.

"Shh." Lucas's grip tightened on her, his right arm beginning to tremble as pain from his wounded chest traveled through his shoulder, down his bicep, into his hand. "Just lie still."

Skye held her breath, eyes still squeezed shut. With her heart still galloping against her chest, she struggled to keep tremors from wracking her body. She focused on Lucas's breathing, focused on the rise and fall of his chest against her back. Anything to get her mind off the Nicoraptor. She could hear its heavy footsteps, could hear it hiss and roar in agitation. All she could think of was Lucas's scars. He had been lucky the first time around – could he be so lucky the second time?

"It's gone."

Skye cracked open an eye, saw nothing but darkness. Silence descended, stifled her. Lucas dropped his arm, the gun falling to the ground as his hand went slack from pain. If not for Lucas's hand resting on the butt of the gun, Skye would've snatched it from him. She felt no such inkling to do that now, however. He had kept her safe, had protected her from certain death – for now.

Skye shifted uncomfortably in his arms, realizing he hadn't relinquished his grasp around her. She tried to clear her throat, found that she couldn't speak. Her heart still raced against her ribs, still made her breath hitch. She attempted a few deep, controlled breaths to steady her heartbeat and her erratic nerves. Lucas breathed alongside her, his chest rising and falling in unison. The warmth of his breath flowed over her face, his stubble still tickling her cheek. She felt his eyes flutter close.

"Lucas?" Her voice was surprisingly steady. "You can get off me."

Lucas's eyelashes brushed against her temple as he opened his eyes. After a moment, he relented, pulled away in silence. The cold night air rushed to sap the warmth out of Skye again as Lucas's precious body heat no longer insulated her. Rolling onto her back, Skye sat up, stared hard at the dying embers of the fire. She glanced in Lucas's direction, saw a vague outline of his face in the faint glow. His eyes glimmered in the darkness, but she couldn't read the expression on his face.

"Th – thank you," she managed to say, nearly choking on the word.

Lucas shifted beside her, lied down on his back. She couldn't see any of his face, just a thin profile that may or may not have been a trick of the light.

"I didn't expect you to scream," he finally said, his voice rising from the darkness.

Skye lay back down on her back, felt a small fraction of Lucas's body heat rolling off him. Despite her loathing to be so close to him – she cringed as she sidled closer – the cold made her desperate. She felt something brush against her arm, something feather-soft – maybe his arm, or his hand. How he wasn't freezing was beyond her.

"My friends and I were attacked once," Skye heard herself explaining. She found a measure of comfort in her voice. "We went OTG and didn't get back to Terra Nova before nightfall. One of my friends, Max, was attacked by a Slasher. He almost died." She swallowed thickly. "I had never been so scared – well, until now."

The last of the embers died out. Black shapes appeared out of the darkness as Skye's eyes finally adjusted. The dense network of leaves forming the canopy overhead relented some, revealing the tiny, twinkling pinpricks that adorned the night sky.

"What does OTG mean?"

Skye smirked despite herself. "Outside the gates." Memories flooded her mind for just a moment. "My friends and I went OTG all the time. We – we had a little fermentation station where we made our own version of moonshine."

Lucas chuckled. "Sassy _and_ a rule breaker. I guess that's why you made a good spy."

The smile faded from Skye's face. "I did that for my mother," she snapped, defensive. "I wouldn't have done it at all if she hadn't been sick."

Silence.

"The things we do for family…" Lucas murmured. Skye heard him shift, heard his head turn towards her. "Have you gone OTG with your friends since the attack?"

Skye shook her head, realized he couldn't see her. "No – well, yes. I went with Josh to meet Mira once. Ever since Mr. Shannon and the Commander realized there was a Sixer spy in the camp, they kept the whole colony watched."

"They didn't do a very good job," Lucas snorted. "You slipped in and out all the time."

"I guess I was just that clever," Skye muttered, her voice trailing off.

She felt Lucas's arm brush against hers for a moment. "Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

"Why do you keep asking these questions?"

"Comes with being a genius," Lucas muttered. He sighed. "I want to know everything."

"Ever heard of 'curiosity killed the cat'?"

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. "It hasn't killed me yet."

_It __better_, Skye thought. She rolled onto her side, away from Lucas. _Then __we __wouldn__'__t __have __to __deal __with __you __anymore._

"Sweet dreams, Bucket."

A shiver crawled down her spine – only this time, she wasn't sure it was entirely unpleasant.

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><p>*I'm taking creative liberties here. Bear with me. :)<p> 


	7. Memories

**A/N:** You guys are amazing!

**Woo**, thank you for the correction! I must've used an inaccurate conversion website, because they spelled clicks with a c instead of a k. Will fix it right away! :)

Enjoy!

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><p>Skye found Lucas sitting opposite her, the remnants of the fire between them, when she woke up the next morning. Sitting upright, her muscles protesting, she glanced at Lucas. His gaze focused on the burnt kindling, yet Skye had the impression he was a thousand miles away, thinking of something entirely different. He didn't so much as blink. She could see his eyes darting minutely from side to side, like he was reading something. If he really did have gears in his head, Skye was sure she could've heard them whirring and clicking at top speed. It was a miracle that smoke didn't come out of his ears. He seemed that engrossed with whatever his mind was doing.<p>

Skye's ankle throbbed, though much less than the day before. She gingerly touched the swollen flesh, found she could tolerate more of the pain. Lucas's crude splint appeared more impressive in the daylight, as though he had constructed hundreds of splint out of wood and braided vines. She wondered if he had suffered from a sprained wrist or ankle – broken, perhaps? – in the wake of the Nicoraptor attack that gave him his scars.

"You tossed and turned all night."

Her eyes flicked up to his, but he was still distant, lost in thought. The weariness that clung to her soul attested to that, from what she could tell. The stiffness in her muscles hindered her as she shifted into a more comfortable sitting position, her limbs screaming at her. The emotional strain from the night before had drawn lines in her face, had created dark, deep bags beneath her eyes – even more so than Lucas, who looked as though he hadn't slept at all.

Lucas finally looked up, met her gaze. She saw him come back from wherever he had been, come back through the years to the present. "You whimpered in your sleep."

Skye ducked her head, glanced away. Whimpered…in her sleep? She so desperately wanted to kick herself, wanted to go back to the night before and tell herself that she couldn't, under _any_ circumstances, show weakness in front of Lucas. He would only exploit it – and he would realize just how weak and fragile she was. The strength she displayed at Terra Nova was just a façade built up by covering up her feelings and doing the Sixer's dirty work.

Taking a deep breath, Skye drew herself up, forced herself to look at Lucas's face. His eyes were soft in the morning light, almost the color of newborn spring grass. He looked as tired as she felt, what with his hair all askew and dark circles around his eyes. A few exhaustion lines creased his face, though just barely, as though he had learned to survive sleepless nights without any major consequences.

Instead of a snappish retort, Skye heard herself say, "Did you even sleep?"

He met her gaze, shook his head. "Nicoraptors are naturally deceptive creatures," he explained. "They may look like they've gone, but they'll return once you've let your guard down."

Skye, who struggled with the art of lying, nevertheless sensed Lucas wasn't telling her the truth. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, her mind trying to reel through all the possibilities of why he hadn't slept. Her explanations weren't comforting.

Lucas clapped his hands together. "How's the ankle?"

"Better," Skye replied hesitantly, her eyebrows knitting together.

"Good." Lucas stood up, stretched out his back. Skye heard a few vertebrae crack back into place. "We have a lot of ground to cover if we're going to make it by nightfall."

Skye's brow furrowed. "To the Badlands?"

Lucas chuckled, shook his head. The flash of his white teeth nearly caught Skye off guard, if not for the slight twist of his lips. "Unfortunately, we're not even close to the Badlands. It takes three days to get there by rover, and here we are on foot." He shook his head again, rolled his eyes. "It should take us at least a week, assuming there aren't any more…complications."

_A __week?_ Skye wanted to scream and cry all at the same time. She had barely managed two days with the bastard – how could she manage a _week_? She didn't even want to start thinking of how long she would have deal with him once they arrived at the Badlands, either.

"Don't be sad," Lucas said. He was suddenly in front of her, bending down to eyelevel. His lips stretched into a wide smile. "I make great company once you get to know me." His fingers trailed over her cheek, tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Skye kept herself from flinching away. "Your hair changed color."

Skye blinked, confusion registering in her face. "What?"

"It was lighter when you first came to Terra Nova." His eyes roamed her face, fingers still lingering on her cheek. "It was almost a dirty blonde, wasn't it?"

Skye swallowed thickly, startled. She nodded for a moment, felt his fingers brush her skin in response to the movement. A soft smile touched Lucas's lips, almost nostalgic as he fingered a lock of her tangled brown hair.

"I remember when you first came to the colony," he continued, his voice low and thick with memory. "I was up on the balcony, waiting for my father to come back. When the gate opened and you all came stumbling inside, I saw you standing there with your parents." He chuckled. "You had these wide eyes, like you were scared but awed at the same time." The smile twitched into a smirk. "Kind of like when you first bumped into me."

Skye felt her tongue finally work. "No, I wasn't scared. I was…bothered. What else was I supposed to do when some stranger comes out of nowhere and makes my mom look like she's seen a ghost?"

Lucas shook his head. "I'm not talking about that. I'm still talking about when you first came to the colony." He leaned down, pressed his lips against her forehead, pulled away after a few long, agonizing seconds. "You were in the marketplace staring at all the fruit. I gave you some terras to pay for one." Straightening, Lucas exhaled slowly, wandered over to the stream. "We'd better start moving, Bucket."

Skye tried to recall the memory as best as she could. She remembered the first time she saw all the fruit, the normal fruit, the bizarre fruit. She could remember all the longing she felt to have one, but she hadn't had any terras at the time. They had only just arrived, and her parents had been talking with the Commander. She had almost stolen one until a hand touched her shoulder, and a quiet voice rang out above her head.

"Here," it said, a hand creeping into her vision. A few terras glittered in the outstretched palm. "The green one is the best."

She remembered looking up into the stranger's face. Skye gasped as it all came flooding back to her. The same jade green eyes, sans the creepy mania, had met hers. A soft smile had graced his clean shaven face. He hadn't received his scars yet. Then again, he had disappeared not too long after that.

_Oh __my __God_, Skye thought, her eyes darting over to Lucas. _He__ – __I__…__I __can__'__t __believe __I __couldn__'__t __see __what __a __psycho __he __would __become!_

Nevertheless, the recollection of the memory sent a shiver of unease slithering down her spine. How could she have known? As her mind reeled through all the explanations, a question nagged at the back of her mind.

"Why did you do that?"

Lucas glanced up from the stream, water streaming down his face. "Give you the terras?" Skye nodded. Wiping the back of his hand across his face, Lucas shrugged, though something glittered in his eye. "I saw a girl who wanted something she couldn't have. I know exactly what that feels like."

Another shiver went through Skye. Pressing her lips together in a firm line, she hauled herself up onto her good foot, managed a few limping steps to the stream. Hunger gnawed at her stomach as she splashed cold water on her face. How come she hadn't remembered the memory? He obviously hadn't been such a creep then, so she couldn't say she just repressed it.

Maybe she hadn't wanted to remember the gratitude she had felt – along with the curiosity that had made her trail the man for a day or so after their initial meeting.

Skye suppressed the urge to gag. No wonder she had forgotten the memory. It was too much to bear! Thank God she didn't feel the same way now.

She gave Lucas a sidelong glance, wondering what she had seen in him as a youth. Nothing struck her as particularly good, except for his surprisingly good looks. She shook the thought of her head, cursed inwardly.

"We'll catch food in a little bit," Lucas said. He came up behind Skye, tugged at the shirt wrapped around her shoulders. "This is mine."

Skye shimmied out of it as fast as possible, wanting nothing to do with the man. Lucas smirked to himself, dipped the shirt in the water to wrap around his head again. Skye hobbled away from the water, not daring to look at her reflection. She could only imagine how she looked.

"This way, Bucket."

With a frustrated sigh, Skye turned in his direction, hobbled painfully after him. His hand closed around her wrist, led her along despite her protests.

"I don't want you disappearing," Lucas said. "You may not be able to run, but there are a lot of good hiding places around here. The last thing I want is for you to wander off and get yourself killed."

"Why?" Skye jerked on his hand again, felt his fingers tighten around her wrist. "Wouldn't that make things easier for you?"

Something flickered across Lucas's face, though Skye couldn't put her finger on what it was. He shook his head. "Easier," he agreed, "but not conducive in the grand scheme of things." He glanced at her, eyes glittering. "I'm not done with you yet, Bucket."

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><p>P.S. I found a Lucas Taylor video on Youtube! It's very amusing. Check it out: .comwatch?v=cBAkffQf2WE


	8. Catching Food

**A/N:** **Jenny**, I know what you mean. I'm starting to get annoyed with Skye, too – and I'm the one writing her! Lol. I want things to speed up, too, but I want it to be as realistic as possible. In any case, I hope you like this next chapter. I enjoyed writing it!

Enjoy!

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><p>They stopped within an hour. Skye's ankle was screaming at her. The swelling had increased for the time being. Though Lucas had kept a slow pace to compensate for her injury, he had still jerked her along once or twice when she had lagged behind, thus aggravating her bum leg. She winced as she sat down on a rock. At the rate they were going, they'd never make it to wherever it was Lucas wanted to be before nightfall. They had gone no farther than a klick.<p>

Lucas paced up and down the river. It had widened further still, its banks now five yards apart. The water, still tranquil, pushed just a little faster there, tugging at the reeds that lined the fertile soil that edged the river. Lucas stared down into the water, watched his reflection ripple. A frown pulled at his lips, made his eyes darken ever so slightly. He had hoped to be halfway to the falls by then.

The trees had cleared slightly, revealing a large patch of blow sky streaked with thin clouds. Sunlight poured through the gap, cascading onto Skye. She tilted her head back, let the warmth kiss her face. Lucas watched her as her eyes fluttered close. He wanted to reach out, to cup and hold her face, to let his thumb roam over her soft skin. The light illuminated her hair, framing her face. If Lucas believed in angels, he would've mistaken her for one.

"Take your shoes off."

Skye opened her eyes, brow furrowing for the umpteenth time that day. "What?"

Lucas was already busy tugging off his own boots. "Take your shoes off."

"What for?"

"And the splint."

Skye's face hardened. "You still have answered my question."

Lucas met her gaze, a sigh slipping past his lips. "Just do it."

"Not until you tell me – "

"_Bucket_." His eyes flashed, grew flinty. "Don't argue with me."

Suppressing the urge to spit at him, Skye unlaced her shoes with a jerk, kicked off the boots. Lucas had placed his near her, as far away from the river as possible. He had stripped his socks off as well and was busy rolling his pants up to his knees. Skye shook her head, followed suit. As she carefully untied the splint from around her aching foot, she felt Lucas's eyes on her. She glanced up, met his penetrating gaze.

"What?" she snapped, the pain in her ankle irritating her already frayed nerves.

Lucas shook his head, yanked her to her feet the moment she had rolled her pants to her knees. Hopping with all the grace of a drunken monkey, Skye managed to keep up with him as he led her to the river's edge. He stepped into the water first, pulled her after him.

The crispness of the water made Skye gasp. It lapped at her shins, threatened to soak the bottom of her rolled up pants. Lucas forged ahead until he stood in the middle of the river, his hand still gripping Skye's tightly. She had no choice but to follow, her sore, bare feet scattering aside the pebbles that lined the bottom of the catchment. Standing beside Lucas, she couldn't help but relax slightly as the cold water eased the throbbing in her ankle and countered the swelling.

"What are we doing?" she dared to ask.

Lucas's eyes focused intently on the water ahead of them, unblinking for the second time that day. "Catching breakfast."

Skye glanced up at the sky. "It's past noon."

"Details, details." Lucas let go of her hand, turned to her. "Cup your hands like this."

She frowned, watched as he held his hands close together with his fingers hooked to better grip whatever they were going to catch. Skye had the feeling it would be the same kind of creature they had fed on the day before. Steadying herself on one foot, she mimicked the action, felt awkward as she fought to keep her balance.

"When it starts swimming past," Lucas continued, demonstrating, "you need to scoop down and catch it like you're catching a ground ball."

"I never played baseball," Skye pointed out.

Lucas waved her into silence. "The moment you feel it in your hands, you have to hook your fingers into its gills."

"Sounds very…fun."

He smirked at the sarcasm in her voice. "Just do it, Bucket."

"Would you stop calling me that?" Skye snapped. She gingerly placed her injured foot down on the riverbed, bent her knees slightly to balance better. Her hands plunged into the cold water. "Only my parents can call me that."

"But it suits you."

"Just don't." Skye stared into the water, tried to look for the creature Lucas had caught the day before. "Why am I doing this?"

"You need to learn." Lucas stepped aside, let her have more space. "That way I don't have to do it all the time."

_He__'__s __making __you __his __maid_, Skye thought sourly. _Who __doesn__'__t __want __a __pretty __girl __doing __all __their __stuff __for __them?_

Something silver flashed ahead of her in the water, darted towards her. She tensed, the bitterness forgotten in an instant as she focused on the creature. It sped by, crashed against her outstretched hands. Skye couldn't help but shriek as she struggled to clutch it in her hands, its slick, slimy skin greasing through her fingers. Water splashed up into her face, blinded her momentarily. Her weak foot gave out on her.

She slammed into Lucas's chest as his hands hooked beneath her arms, keeping her from falling into the water. The creature darted away with a flick of its tail, as though mocking her pathetic efforts at catching it. A chuckle slipped past Skye's lips. Within seconds, laughter filled the air as she pushed her hair out of her face. Lucas's laughter rumbled through his chest, warmed Skye's back.

"Not as easy as it seems," Skye said between laughs, finally steadying herself once again in the water. Lucas's hands fell away from her arms, the laughter fading away.

She tried a second time, failed just as bad as the first. She couldn't help but laugh again as she wiped the water from her eyes and mouth. Lucas grinned alongside her, mirth softening his features. He said very little, however, as Skye failed a third time.

As she set up once more, frustration starting to replace amusement, Lucas came up behind her, pressed himself against her. Skye went rigid beneath his touch, started to open her mouth in protest. His hands closed around hers, guided them down into the water.

"Like this," he murmured. His stubble tickled her cheek, almost elicited a girlish giggle. Skye's eyes widened as she suppressed the urge.

Instead, she focused on the water. Her eyes wandered to Lucas's hands wrapped around hers. Long fingers, roughened by experience, held hers firmly, yet gently. Her hand seemed rather small and fragile in comparison to his, which weren't that large to begin with. She could see faint scars crisscrossing on the back of his hands, traveling up to his wrist as though he had raked his hands against cacti.

He shifted against her, his body still pressed tightly against hers. Their chest rose and fell in unison, their breathing slowly becoming one as they waited for the next creature to come zipping past. His body warmth was a comfort Skye couldn't begin to describe. She frowned at herself, tried to think of something else, focused on the water lapping at her shins.

"Just relax," Lucas whispered, "and be still."

Just when Skye was sure she was going to nod off in his arms – a thought that sent an odd sensation through her chest – silver flashed in her vision. Skye tensed for the fourth time, readying herself for the creature's arrival. Lucas moved with her, kept a firm grip on her hands as the creature swam closer.

"Now!" Lucas cried, plunging her hands deeper into the water.

Her fingers seized the creature, hooked into its flesh with Lucas's help. The creature thrashed in her hands, sent water flying everywhere. Skye spat as the river water splashed into her mouth, up her nose. A shriek slipped past her throat again, followed by a grunt as she felt Lucas's hand slip away from hers, allowing the creature more room to whip itself around in her palms. She struggled to keep a firm grip on it; she could barely see it through the frothing water.

Suddenly, all was still. The water turned red with blood as Lucas's knife slit the creature's head, cutting off its life. Skye found herself breathing hard, the struggle having worn her out. Staring down at the dead creature, she felt the beginnings of a triumphant smile touch her lips. She turned her head to look at Lucas, found his face closer to hers than she expected.

"I got it," she said, the smile fading from her face. Lucas stared into her eyes, jade green eyes turning into that newborn spring grass color again. His eyes roamed her face, his breath rolling over her lips. Something glimmered in his eyes, something that made Skye's throat constrict.

"I'm starving," Skye stuttered, flustered. She hopped out of his embrace, struggling to keep her balance and keep her grip on the creature. "The sooner I eat, the better, you know?"

Something flickered in Lucas's eyes – disappointment, maybe? – as he dried the knife on his pants and trudged out of the water. Skye followed him at a distance, unsettled. She fought to keep herself from thinking about the look in his eyes, the look she had seen before once or twice in Hunter's eyes, especially the day he had told her he wanted to be more than just friends.

"We can't stop long," Lucas spoke up, already arranging a small fire. His voice had grown neutral, emotionless. "We need to keep moving."

Skye nodded, handed him the fish. He didn't so much as glance up at her. Settling down beside the fire, Skye massaged her ankle, surprised to find that the swelling had gone down significantly. She made a mental note to soak her foot in the river later.

"Lucas," she said after a while, her voice quiet, "what if Taylor doesn't want me back? Like you said, I'm a – a traitor." She dared to look over at him. "What if your hostage plan doesn't work? What're you going to do to me then?"

Lucas tore his gaze away from the fire, his eyes meeting hers. "Hopefully, nothing."

He refused to elaborate.


	9. The Rapids

**A/N:** **MissMaegan**, you're not the only one who's fallen for the sexy deranged maniac that is Lucas. Rawr.

**Lilramenlover**, I totally agree with you. That's why I'm having so much fun writing these two. :)

All your reviews really make my day, guys!

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><p>"You're slowing down." Lucas tugged on her wrist. "Why are you slowing down?"<p>

Skye glared at him. "Oh, I don't know, I just can't walk on my foot," she snapped. She grit her teeth as she took another step forward, pain searing white-hot through her foot, up through her leg. Exhaustion hung heavily on her shoulders, making each step an enormous effort.

"Hop," Lucas said. His eyes darted to the river, where the beginnings of the rapids were starting to show. The banks were ten yards across now, the river much too deep to stand in anymore.

"I'm trying," Skye growled. She took a few unsteady hops forward, her quadriceps screaming in response. She faltered, clutched Lucas's hand too tight, elicited a sharp hiss from him. "Oh, that didn't hurt, did it?" Her pain kept her from smirking.

In another hour and a half, the sun would set, and night would fall faster than the waterfall Lucas hoped to make it to. Muttering incoherently to himself, he swooped Skye up into his arms. His chest protested, the healing skin threatening to split open. Skye yelped, startled as she was swept off her feet. She clutched onto his shoulders for balance, her fingernails digging into his exposed flesh. She watched pain flicker across his face, saw the muscle in his jaw twitch.

He held her closely in an effort to compensate for the weakness in his right arm. They kept close to the river now, the rest of the area too dense and overgrown to be maneuvered through easily. The grass on the riverbanks, soft and luscious, felt like a lush carpet as Lucas walked on it, his boots sinking into the ground. The moisture of the bank kept him from traveling as fast as he wanted to, on top of Skye's inability to walk properly.

Skye was too tired to make the trip unbearable like she had the first time Lucas had carried her. The bags beneath her eyes had deepened to an unnatural purple color bordering on black. Lucas glanced at her, one eyebrow arching in amusement.

"You look like you have a black eye," he commented, a faint chuckle lacing his words.

Skye forced a twisted smile, eyes flashing in irritation. "Too bad I can't report you for abuse."

The smile faded from Lucas's face. His eyes hardened as he looked away, his eyes focused on the terrain. The gun, tucked safely in his belt, pressed against the small of back, the cold metal chafing against his skin. The shirt wrapped around his head had long ago dried in the sun, the stiffening fabric scraping against his forehead, against the nape of his neck. Sweat streamed down his face, worming itself down at an irritatingly slow place down his chest, down his back.

It was worse for Skye. The heat bore down on her, fried what little patience she had left. Sweat dripped off her as quickly – if not faster – as Lucas's, drenching her tank tops. Her ankle was screaming in protest despite the splint, making her vision pulse as pain darted through her. Despite the fact that she no longer had any pressure on it, the very motion of Lucas moving forward sent flashes of pain coursing through her limbs.

"We're never going to make it," Skye groaned. "You're just making things worse."

Lucas shook his head. "We'll make it." He shifted his grip on her, a thick bead of sweat sliding down his face in response to exertion. Gritting his teeth, he glanced at her, tried to think of something to say. He only wanted her to keep talking, to distract him from the pain. "Have you kissed that Shannon boy yet?"

Skye's eyes whipped around to meet his, heat creeping up the back of her neck. "What?"

"You heard me." Lucas attempted a smirk, failed miserably as pain kept his features from working properly. "Answer the question."

"Why do you care?"

He fixed her with those jade green eyes again. Something flickered in the pupils, something akin to exasperation. The hardness that had crept into his face, darkening his features, made Skye respond without waiting for him to speak. Deep down, though she refused to acknowledge it, she was afraid of what he'd say.

"No," she managed to reply, her cheeks flushing red. "_He_ kissed _me_."

"Ah." Lucas nodded, his gaze darting away as he felt some of the ground beneath his feet shift. He stepped aside, shook away the feeling of foreboding that gripped his stomach. "Let me guess. You kissed him back."

Skye nodded, her brow furrowing as she remembered the incident. Lucas stumbled, nearly lost his grip on her. Skye's arm flung around his neck, gripped him tight as he struggled to right himself. Even as he regained his balance, she kept her arm there, feeling that she was anchored more – emotionally or physically, she wasn't sure.

"Right afterwards," she said, her voice low, eyes averted, "he told me he couldn't – because he had Kara, you know." Skye bit her lip, felt something stir in her chest. "I think – I think he thought he was kissing Kara when he kissed me. It just didn't feel right." She sighed, flicked her eyes up to look at Lucas's face. "But you wouldn't know what that's like, I'm sure. With the way you treat your father, I'm sure you haven't been in many relationships." Her words were sharper than she intended; their point made even her wince.

Lucas glanced at her then, the hardness in his eyes melting away. He opened his mouth to say something, refrained, glanced away. If she hadn't been so close to him, she wouldn't have heard him murmur, "Wouldn't that be nice."

Skye's brow furrowed. The vulnerability in his face, on any other occasion, would have made her giddy with triumph – maybe not giddy, but close enough – but it did little to satisfy her then. She tried to read the look on Lucas's face, tried to see what emotions were fighting within his eyes.

"Sometimes," Lucas finally said, his head jerking up, "it's a burden being a genius. I have nobody to share it with." His eyes met hers, spring grass color again. "Nobody."

Something tugged in Skye's chest. Whether it was pity or sympathy or guilt, she wasn't sure. She tried to ignore the yearning in his eyes, the need for someone to understand the complexities of his mind and the burden that accompanied brilliance. There was something so disarming about it. It almost made him seem human.

Lucas's eyes widened. The ground beneath his foot gave way, the bank crumbling beneath him. Skye stiffened in his arms, instinctively clung to his neck.

Suddenly, they were falling. Air whooshed past Skye's ears, the world spinning around her. She caught a glimpse of Lucas's face, saw a brief flicker of panic in his pupils. The world turned on its side.

They crashed into the rushing waters. Skye gasped as the cold enveloped her, felt water filling her lungs. She lost her grip on Lucas, was ripped away from his arms. Lungs screaming for air, she clawed to the frothing surface, choked and spluttered as she broke through the water.

The river swirled, seething with white-hot anger. Skye gasped for air, fought to keep her head above the surface. The weight of her soaked clothes dragged her down. Exhaustion made her limbs dead weights. Her ankle crashed against a low lying rock. A cry ripped from her throat, pain searing through her. White starbursts clouded her vision.

The water sucked her down again. It pressed against her, shoving her down, pulling at her relentlessly. Panic seized her as water forced itself down her throat, filled her lungs. The edges of her vision darkened, her limbs growing heavier and heavier. The cold quickly sapped away her will to fight.

She broke through the surface again, gulped air greedily. The intensity of the frothing waters kept her from seeing clearly. She thought she saw Lucas's head before the whitewaters engulfed it, dragging him down like it did to her.

"Lucas!" she yelled. The water whipped her around, smashed her against a rock.

"Bucket!" His voice, drowned out by the roaring waters, barely reached Skye's ears as she surfaced again.

She felt his hand seize her wrist, grip her tight. Skye grabbed his arm with her free hand, tried to see him through the froth. The river twisted sharply, sloping down into a three-foot long drop. They were ripped apart a second time, the water engulfing them entirely.

Skye kicked against the current, tried to dig her good foot into the river bottom. The thick mud yielded beneath her, sent her tumbling head over heels through the water. Disorientation made Skye dizzy, made panic overwhelm her to unbearable proportions.

Somehow, her head was above the water. Throat and lungs burning, she reached out, tried to grab something – anything – that could keep her anchored.

The river slammed her into another rock. The air whooshed out of Skye's lungs, sent a wave of pain through her chest. Her hands clutched the rock's slippery surface, nails scrabbling to find a notch or ledge to cling to. She felt a nail break, didn't have the voice to hiss. The river pushed at her, tried to tug her away from the rock.

Her fingers found a hold.

Pressed flat against the rock, Skye clutched it for dear life. The river pummeled her, made her arms weaken. With one last ditch effort, she pulled with all her strength, pulled herself up, up, up, up onto the rock. Legs still flailing in the water, she nevertheless had stopped moving. Peeling her head away from the rock, she searched the frothing waters, saw Lucas speeding towards a huge rock.

"Lucas!" she cried again, startled to hear her voice – and the fear that laced it.

He crashed against the rock, lost his breath. His hands scrambled to grip the rock like Skye, to keep him from moving. The river, furious at already losing one victim, crashed over him, pushed, pulled, tugged. Stars flashed in Lucas's vision, his head pounding from the impact. Darkness crept into his vision, unconsciousness threatening to settle in.

His right arm began to tremble. He didn't dare readjust. The water clawed at him, seized his clothes with icy fingers. He heard Skye screaming his name – again and again and again.

Lucas slipped, fingers scraping against the rock. The cords in his neck were taut with exertion. Exhaustion made him heavier, made the river pull at him with an even greater ferocity. His right arm gave way.

The waters engulfed him again, pulled him down. Skye felt fear constrict around her heart as the froth swallowed him up.

As Lucas broke the surface, gasping for air, a roaring sound filled his ears. He turned, saw the river drop away to nothing ahead of him. The river knocked him against another rock, made his vision pulse dangerously. It twisted him around, faced him in the direction of Skye. He caught one last glimpse at the horror in her face.

"_LUCAS!_"

Suddenly he was flying – and plummeting into nothing.

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><p>P.S. I can already tell – you guys are going to hate me for leaving you with such a cliffhanger. Lol.<p>

P.P.S. I found another Lucas/Skye video! It's from the same vidder as the one just about Lucas. Check it out: /watch?v=U3_18TxD5eA


	10. Even

**A/N:** How're you guys liking it, waiting in suspense? Hahaha, I know, I know, you guys are probably pulling your hair out waiting for this next chapter. That's why I'm trying to upload it ASAP. (Too bad I woke up late, huh?)

Love you all!

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><p>For a moment, as Skye realized what was going to happen, happiness flooded through her. Yes, it was over. Finally. She was free, and Lucas would never be a problem again.<p>

But as he disappeared over the falls, something inside her plummeted down with him, made her chest seize with inexplicable fear. The scream that ripped from her throat came from deep within her, from a place she didn't even know she had. She didn't even _think_.

"_LUCAS!_"

Gone. Nothing but the roaring waters swirling where he had just been.

Struggling to catch her breath, Skye hauled herself up onto the entire rock, drawing from a pool of strength she hadn't had before. Her mind wasn't working, else she wouldn't have attempted what she did. Sliding down on the other side of the rock, she jumped, reached for the riverbank.

The air whooshed out of her again as she thudded against the bank. Hands scrabbling for a grip, she seized a handful of thick grass, the whitewaters clawing at her once again, desperate for the victim they had been denied. Arms and shoulders screaming at her, she pulled herself up onto solid ground, rolled away from the side.

She wanted to lay there forever, to let the soft grass cushion her and lull her into a long, deep sleep. But the image of Lucas casting one last glance at her before he went over burned in her mind, forced her to her feet.

Gritting her teeth against the pain searing her foot nerveless, Skye skipped, hopped, hobbled to the end of the river. Adrenaline kept her going until the roar of the falls deafened her. Scrambling to the very edge of the drop, she stared down. The falls thundered into a large pool that shifted into a slow moving river, a complete 360 from the rapids above it.

No Lucas.

The rock-face on either side of the falls was just that – rock. It jutted out in some means of a sharp, downward slope. The climb would've been nothing if Skye had the use of both her feet. Now, it was a suicide mission.

She swung herself down onto the first semblance of a ledge, hooked her fingers onto the edge. Ignoring the pain, she pretended she was OTG with her friends, busy scaling the Snakehead Falls – or, rather, jumping off the edge into the waiting pool below. Only the pool was deep enough that they wouldn't dash their head against the bottom, and the waterfall itself wasn't dangerously high.

Not like this one.

Her boots slipped on the rocks, made it difficult to keep her balance. Her ankle screamed insistently, threatened to give out on her once or twice. The splint had ripped off in the midst of her near drowning. She didn't dare look down at it. She had the feeling that the wood of the splint had snapped when her ankle had hit the low lying rock in the river, leaving a massive chunk of wood in her flesh.

Hand, foot. Hand, foot. She descended as quickly as possible, heart pounding against her chest as her weakened arms, laden with exhaustion, shook, nearly made her lose her grip.

But she had to find him. Even if he was dead, she had to find him.

Deep down, she prayed he was alive. For what reason, she didn't know.

She wasn't that far now. Skye glanced down, gauging the distance. The rock-face dropped straight into the pool. She squinted, tried to see the depth of the calm waters. Darkness yawned beneath the surface.

"Wouldn't be the first time you've done something crazy," Skye muttered to herself, inching herself closer to the falls itself. Water sprayed her face, blinded her.

Steadying herself with her good foot, Skye glanced down once more. She couldn't see Lucas in the swirling waters beneath the waterfall. Hopefully he had already swum to the edge of the pool. Skye took a deep breath, held it.

And dropped into the pool.

The water swallowed her up greedily, though it cushioned her unlike its furious counterpart. Her feet didn't touch bottom, but she was too busy kicking hard to get to the surface, her clothes weighing her down again. She gasped for air, dogpaddled away from the waterfall in an attempt to orientate herself.

"Lucas!" she cried, her voice reverberating off the rocks. "Lucas, where are you?"

No response.

Something brown caught Skye's attention from behind the waterfall. She took full strokes to get to it as fast as possible, her heart pounding in her chest again with apprehension. Lucas's body slipped into view, face down in the water.

"Lucas!" Skye reached him, seized his arm, tried to flip him over. His body yielded to her touch, slowly turned over.

Lucas's eyes were closed, his mouth slightly parted. Skye felt dread take up residence in her core, felt it slither around her heart. Gripping Lucas as tightly as possible, she kicked hard, did her best to drag him to shore. The thunder of the falls diminished as she reached a section of the bank low enough to haul herself and Lucas onto.

The pain forgotten, she yanked Lucas up onto the bank, slid him onto his back. She slapped his face, tried to get him to stir.

"Lucas," she said, shaking him roughly by the shoulders. "Lucas! Can you hear me?"

Silence. His eyelids didn't so much as flicker.

What had Dr. Shannon taught her? Skye pressed her fingers against his neck, against his jugular. The shaking in her hands kept her from gauging an accurate feel. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she felt a faint pulse beneath her fingertips. Her own heart leapt.

Tearing the shirt off Lucas's chest, Skye forced his mouth open. Water trickled out, slid down his jaw. Fingers closing around his nose, Skye hesitated. She could just let him die there. Hadn't he killed Washington – in cold blood, even? Didn't he deserve penance for his crimes?

"_Killing isn't in your nature, Bucket."_

Skye pressed her mouth to his, exhaled. Pulling away, she pressed her hands against his chest, pumped.

No movement.

"Come on," Skye growled, repeating the actions. She exhaled as much as she could into his throat, pumped his chest, gasped for air to deliver another mouthful to him.

"Come _on_!" Tears – tears! – blurred her vision, threatened to spill over. Skye tried to come up with some reason for them. "I – I can't get back to Terra Nova without you!"

Nothing.

Skye pounded her fist against his heart, his lungs, no longer sticking to what she had learned in that CPR course she had taken. She cut her lip on his teeth as she forced her mouth onto his again, expelling all the air in her lungs. Her vision wavered, went opaque as the tears spilled over.

"Lucas, damnit!" Her fist slammed into his chest once more. "You can't just leave me like this!"

Lucas's eyes flung open. He gasped for air, chest heaving. Skye jumped back in surprise. Coughing up water, Lucas forced himself up, struggled for breath. The water kept flowing out of his mouth, drenching his chest.

The air burned his throat. Lucas gasped, felt it sear his mouth. His whole body shook, the air flooding his empty lungs. His heart galloped against his chest, threatened to burst out of his skin.

"You're alive!" Skye flung her arms around him in a moment of relief, losing herself for just a moment.

Lucas embraced her back, squeezed her in an attempt to ease his trembling. The fear dissipated, each breath hurting less than the last. The disbelief in Skye's voice rang in his ears as she pulled back.

Without much thought, Skye pressed her lips against his forehead – rough, chaste. "I thought you were gone for sure!"

Lucas's lips pulled back into a smile, his forehead tingling where Skye had kissed him. He tried to speak, found his voice too hoarse. Skye looked into his eyes, the jade green yet again replaced by newborn spring grass. Tears glittered in her eyes, had left marks on her face. Lucas reached up, brushed them away.

Skye's expression changed. She let go of him, rocked back on her heels. The pain she had been ignoring came flooding back. Stifling a cry, she stretched out her leg, dared to look at her ankle. Her face paled; Lucas followed her gaze.

The swelling had increased tenfold, the skin bright red. But it was the wood that disturbed Skye. A huge chunk of it stuck in her skin. Blood wept from the wound, stained her pants, bloodied the ground beneath her. Biting her lip, Skye reached over, grabbed the end of the wood. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she yanked with all her might.

The blood flowed freely than, quickly welling up and out of the wound. Skye winced, tears of pain pricking her eyes. The wound, an inch wide and an inch deep, made the sprain in her ankle excruciating, made it almost unbearable. She cursed, squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, Lucas was gone.

"Lucas?" She turned, tried to look behind her. A slight shift of her leg sent white-hot pain flaring through her. "Lucas!"

"I'm right here." Lucas crouched down beside her, startled her, inadvertently made her wince. In his hand, he cradled a mass of writhing maggots. Skye paled, looked away as he coated them over the wound. "They're like nature's sanitizers," he smirked.

He collapsed down beside her, his body still trembling. Skye fell back, exhaustion taking over. Her eyes fluttered close, her body finally relaxing for just a moment. Lucas followed suit, still fighting to regain his breath again properly. They breathed in unison, one hoarse from drowning, the other strained from pain. The writhing of the maggots in her wound had nausea rolling through Skye's stomach, made her wonder if she was going to toss up the creature she had eaten for breakfast.

"I lost the gun."

She turned her head, cracked open an eye to look at Lucas's profile. Water still dripped down his face, soaking the ground beneath his head. The gravity of the situation pressed down on Skye's hope – of what little remained of it, that is. Without a gun, they had no defense against any predator that came against them – human or otherwise.

"I still have the knife," Lucas continued. "At least we won't starve."

Skye shook her head. "This happened to the Commander and Mira not too long ago." She remembered hearing the story from Taylor, who hadn't had anybody else to tell it to. "They lost their guns while escaping these Carnos – well, I can't remember what they were. All they had was a knife and some fire."

Lucas's mouth tightened. "What a coincidence," he muttered dryly.

Silence.

The roaring of the waterfall had grown lulling, almost calming. Skye felt herself nodding off, her limbs too heavy to move from that spot. She eventually forgot the maggots, found herself focusing on the sound of Lucas's breathing. She could hear it rasping against his aching lungs. She had almost fallen asleep when she heard Lucas's voice, low and quiet.

"Thank you." The words sounded alien from his lips, tasted foreign on his tongue.

Skye opened her eyes, turned her head to look at him. He was looking at her, his eyes betraying the gratitude that he had never shown to anyone. Without thinking about it, Skye reached out, cupped his face with one hand. His stubble tickled her palm as he pressed into her touch. Skye felt his trembling ease beneath her hand, felt him sink into it. Her thumb caressed his cheek.

That look flickered in his eyes again. Skye tensed, snatched her hand away. She sat up sharply, groaned as her body protested. "We're even now," she managed to say, her voice shaking. "Shouldn't we get moving?"

Lucas sighed, passed a hand over his face. He fingered his eyebrow, his eyes fluttering close. "This is where I wanted to be before nightfall."

Skye's eyebrows arched. "We should've taken the river in the first place," she muttered sourly. "Then I wouldn't have had to walk."

"But you could've drowned." Lucas sat up, a shiver running through him as a light breeze kicked up and licked his soaked flesh. "There's a cave behind the waterfall. Nothing can get us while we're in there."

Skye's eyes flicked over to the waterfall. "Are you sure?"

"I'm still alive, aren't I?" Getting to his feet, Lucas left her lying there beside the bank as he collected kindling for a fire.

Skye struggled to stand up, her entire body protesting. The feel of Lucas's cheek in her hand still lingered. She stared down at her palm, felt the prickle of his stubble there. Her chest tightened, her stomach suddenly growing jittery. Eyes widening, she wiped her hand on her pants, glanced in Lucas's direction.

_The only reason you saved him_, she reminded herself, _is because he's the only one who can get you back to Terra Nova._

As she hobbled after him, she remembered something Lucas had said the day before.

"_I never thought you were the kind of girl to be in denial._"

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><p>P.S. I don't feel like I stayed true to the characters in this chapter...hrumph. Tell me what you think!<p> 


	11. Silence

**A/N:** I know, I know, I want to get to the steamy and the fluff asap, too! I'm working on it!

**Donewithpretending,** I have no problem with you linking this on Tumblr. I really appreciate the advertisement! Lol

Oh, **Kristine.D**, thanks for the review! I would totally get a beta, only it would take too long, and I'm afraid you'd all kill me if my update pace slows down. ^^; I'm usually too tired and strained in the eyes to re-read what I've written and fix the typos. Shame on me.

And **LatanaBerry**, you're very welcome. I love those videos!

Check out **NumberSixteen**'s Lucas/Skye fic _Cut Off Without Ammends_. It's great – and it's getting to the fluff much faster than mine, I'm afraid. So if you're looking for it, you'll definitely find it there! (She's loving her reviews, guys! Your reviews truly inspire her!)

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><p>By the time Lucas had the fire blazing inside the damp cave, the sun had already slipped behind the horizon. As the darkness descended around them, the cold reached them, sliced through them with icy fingers. Their soaked clothing clung to their bodies as they huddled by the fire, trying to keep warm.<p>

Lucas was the first to strip off his shirt. Skye watched him warily as he slapped the cloth down by the fire to dry, his bare chest glistening in the firelight. He shimmied out of his pants, spread it out beside the shirt. Skye frowned, hugged her knees closer to her chest.

"You'll have to do the same," Lucas said, too weary to let a mischievous twinkle creep into his eyes. Skye shook her head. "Bucket," he sighed, passing a hand over his face, "if you don't, you could get pneumonia."

"I'll take my chances." Skye's arms tightened around her legs as a gust of wind channeled through the cave and cut through her. Goosebumps prickled across her flesh.

"I can't save you," Lucas growled, "if you get pneumonia. We aren't at Terra Nova. We don't have the medicine to save you."

Skye bit her lip, knowing he was right. She shook her head, inched closer to the fire. Lucas rolled his eyes, held his hands out towards the flames. It felt as though none of the heat he was getting reached Skye. She shivered, her lips slowly turning purple-blue with cold. It wasn't until her teeth started clacking together that she cursed to herself and began peeling away her tank tops.

She didn't dare look in Lucas's direction. She didn't want to see the satisfaction on his face. She could feel his eyes on her as she slapped her clothes down beside his, as she shimmied out of her pants, as she kicked off her shoes and stripped away her socks. She kept one of them, tied it around her ankle to keep down the swelling and to hide the maggots from view.

Sitting back down by the fire, Skye hugged her feet to her chest again, feeling practically naked despite her underwear and her bra. She still felt Lucas's eyes roaming her body, felt them lingering on places nobody but her parents had seen. Skye shifted uncomfortably, tried to scoot closer to the warmth emanating off the crackling flames.

The falls duly thundered, now part of the background noise. A dinosaur roared not far off. Skye tensed, eyes darting towards the mouth of the cave. She couldn't see anything through the sheet of water cascading into the still waters below, but the fear that gripped her was real – as tangible as the rock that pressed against her ass and made it numb. The fear drained her lips of color, sent more chills coursing through her than the cold night air. The flames flickered, darted before her eyes, drew her attention away as something sizzled on the deteriorating kindling.

"We still have some meat left," Lucas stated quietly, his voice almost husky. Whether it was the fact his throat was still hoarse, or the fact that he was trying not to scare her, Skye wasn't sure. Her gaze flicked over to meet his.

There it was again – that look, coupled with a softness that Skye had the impression Lucas only reserved for her. She swallowed thickly, felt her heart thud in her chest. Forcing her eyes away, she watched the remains of the creature they had caught earlier sizzle and burn in the depths of the fire. The tantalizing smell wafted beneath her nose, made her stomach growl.

"Bucket." His voice was soft again, low. "Are you ever going to talk to me without hating me?"

Skye's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Oh, I don't know," she said, sarcasm making her words double-edged, "you only threatened to push my mother to her death."

"I did what I had to," Lucas said, his voice hardening. "You're stubborn. How else was I supposed to get you to do what I wanted?"

Skye didn't have a response. She growled inwardly, pressed her forehead into her knees. Her hair fell around her shoulders, brushed against her legs, covered her face. The crackling of the fire, punctuated by the distant thunder of the falls, became the center of her attention, to the point she heard nothing else but her heartbeat.

It suddenly stuttered, skipped against her chest as she felt Lucas's fingers brushing aside her hair to look at her. She tensed, but she didn't flinch away. His roughened fingertips traced the hair, hooked it around her ear. She focused hard into the flames, tried to keep her peripherals from seeing him.

"Bucket," he whispered, his fingers lingering on her ear, "why won't you look at me?"

Skye shook her head, felt her hair fall back into place. Lucas brushed it away again, caressed her cheek with his thumb. A shiver ran down her spine, made her stomach fill with – with butterflies! Skye swallowed thickly, tried to ease away.

"You're not…decent," she blurted out, thinking about the way Mark Reynolds treated Maddy Shannon.

A chuckle rumbled in Lucas's chest. "I can be decent," he said. "You just have to get to know me better."

Skye jerked her head up, stared hard into his face. "That's not what I meant."

A triumphant smirk graced Lucas's lips. "Ah, there they are." His fingers hooked around the back of her neck, kept her from looking away as she realized what he had done. "See, it's not so bad. Am I that hideous to look at?"

_No_, Skye thought. She opened her mouth to speak, found that she didn't have any words to say. She reached up, wrapped her fingers around Lucas's wrist, tried to pull his hand away from her cheek. His grip tightened, though nothing changed in his face.

"Are you ashamed?"

Skye blinked, the question catching her off guard. "Ashamed?" Her brow furrowed. "Ashamed of what?"

"Your body." His eyes slowly looked her up and down. "Aren't teenage girls supposed to hate the way they look?"

Again with the butterflies in her stomach. Skye shook her head, managed to dislodge Lucas's hand. He gripped her fingers instead, his eyes still lingering on her face. Exhaustion kept her from putting up a real fight. Instead, she looked away, tried to ignore the things flickering in his pupils. She felt like she was in Boylan's bar again, though Josh wasn't there to save her this time – and she wasn't entirely disgusted.

The thought made her cringe.

Lucas's voice had grown husky again, his breath rolling over Skye's ear. "You are so beautiful."

She looked at him then, forced herself to meet his gaze that time. Her hand trembled slightly in his, the warmth of his touch sending a wave of apprehension through her. The butterflies continued to flutter in her stomach, reminding her that she was still just a teenage girl prone to do stupid things.

Lucas leaned in closer, his eyes searching hers. Skye swallowed thickly, found she couldn't tear her gaze away. She felt riveted, as though someone had glued her into that pose forever.

_POP!_

Skye jumped, flinched away from Lucas as reality came crashing back down. Heart galloping wildly in her chest, she tore her eyes away from his, let them dart away to the fire.

"Th – the meat's burning," she stuttered, heat flushing her cheeks deep red.

Lucas's eyes followed hers. It took him a moment to register the charred remains of the creature. With the look on his face hardening into his old self again, he reached into the flames, plucked the slabs of meat out. With his knife, he scraped away much of the burned meat, handed off the best slice to Skye. She took it without a thank you, too engrossed with yelling at herself inwardly. What was she doing?

They ate in silence, the moment shattered. Skye munched on the meat but tasted none of it. She couldn't help but sneak glances at Lucas out of the corner of her eye. He stared into the fire as he ate, his mind whirring and working at full speed like always. Skye didn't dare ask what he was thinking about – she was too afraid of the answer.

"Bucket," Lucas murmured, his voice oddly distant, "do you have any idea what it feels like to know you're cut off from the rest of the world?"

Skye swallowed the last of her meat with difficulty, trying to understand his question. She nodded after a moment, heard herself say, "How do you think I felt when I was spying for the Sixers?"

Lucas bobbed his head in understanding, passed a hand over his face. For once, Skye saw the weariness in his face, saw the burden of brilliance weighing him down like it had before they had plunged into the rapids. It creased deep lines into his features, aged him by ten years. It was no wonder his moods fluctuated so erratically. In that brief moment, he looked like he could barely handle what his mind was telling him.

Skye reminded herself she needed to narrow down the amount of moves Lucas was ahead of her in the game they were playing. She made a mental note about this second reference to the struggles of a genius. If only she had some way to learn more about him without coming across as an interrogator.

She cleared her throat. "I don't have a boyfriend," she heard herself say quietly, her brow furrowing at her own words, "because there hasn't been a guy who's had the balls to approach me." She frowned. "Well, aside from Josh, but that's complicated…and Hunter."

Lucas's eyes flicked over to hers. "Hunter?"

"He's one of my friends," Skye explained. "He told me that he wanted to be more than friends…but I've never seen him as anything more than a friend, so he doesn't count."

"Sounds to me like you're scared."

Skye's head snapped over to look at Lucas. "What?" she spluttered. "I'm not scared!"

"And I'm not a genius," Lucas muttered. "You're so strong and stubborn – but you're so _naïve_, Bucket." He sighed, finished the last of his dinner. Massaging an eyebrow, he continued, "Denial doesn't become you."

"So you've said." An edge crept into Skye's voice. "I don't like being…analyzed like I'm some kind of math equation!"

One eyebrow arched in amusement. "I wouldn't say you're a math equation," Lucas said, his eyes roaming over her for a moment. "You're more like a physics problem." His eyes met hers. "It's all hypothetical until I can prove it – and that takes a lot of trial and error."

Skye couldn't help but smirk to herself. So he _was_ analyzing her, which meant she had just shortened the amount of moves Lucas was ahead of her. One move at a time.

"You seem to know so much about me," Skye pointed out, eyes darkening, "but I hardly know anything about you."

"I'm just a sick bastard, right?" There wasn't any mirth in his face. "Isn't that all you'll believe?"

Skye knew it was. Sighing, she tugged on a lock of hair, stared back down into the flames. The silence descended around them, wrapped them tightly in its eerie embrace. Skye traced patterns on the ground, feeling the heat of the fire slowly drying her. Lucas sat silent and still beside her, his eyes focusing off into the distance.

The silence, as the night stretched on, unnerved Skye. She thought she heard a Nicoraptor hiss, only relaxed when she realized that the sound of the waterfall was too loud for her to actually hear one. The quiet clawed at her soul, made her shift uneasily. She stood up, stretched in an attempt to relieve the numbness of her ass. For once, she didn't feel Lucas's eyes on her.

It only unsettled her more.

"I don't like the silence," she suddenly said, her voice a little too loud even for her ears. She toned it down a notch, crossed her arms over her chest as some means of modesty. "When my parents were sick with the fever, I would get so scared when the house would get quiet. It made me wonder whether they had died yet…" She inhaled sharply, trying to distract herself from the memories. "I hate it."

Silence.

Lucas began to talk in quiet tones then, eyes still focused on the fire. Skye sat down beside him again, slowly losing herself in his words as he talked about what life had been like before his mother had died, as he talked about his likes and dislikes, as he talked about the things he had aspired to. The cave filled with the sound of his voice, the monologue progressing from one topic to the next as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He talked about all the things in his head, about how he had imagined coming to a world like this, about how he had known that, one day, it would all happen just like he had dreamt it. The occasional chuckle slipped past his lips, illuminating his face, his eyes, filling the cave with mirth.

And Skye listened to keep the shadows of the past away.


	12. Reasons

**A/N:** Let me just say, as I've said before, that I'm dying to get to the good parts, too – which is one of the reasons why I'm updating so crazy fast. When I was writing that last chapter, I was sooooooooooooo tempted to make them kiss and get it on already, but I had to hold myself back. Gah!

**Jenny**, in reference to that question that is nagging the back of your mind, you'll just have to wait to find out – because Skye isn't sure, either! Lol.

Loving your reviews!

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><p>Lucas talked into the wee hours of the night, his voice eventually lulling Skye into a peaceful sleep. Dreams plagued her, dreams of Terra Nova, of Commander Taylor becoming her guardian…of Lucas. Especially of Lucas.<p>

When she woke, the butterflies in her stomach had quieted, but she was left with an odd feeling in her chest – one quite unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Inhaling deeply, she opened her eyes, stared across the ground. She felt warm, though she realized she was still in her bra and underwear. She swallowed thickly, glanced over.

Lucas had snuggled her again. The feel of his bare skin against hers was a tantalizing sensation Skye was too scared to acknowledge. His arm looped around her waist, keeping her close in his sleep. Face buried in her hair, nose brushing the back of her neck, it felt as though he – as though he had _molded_ to her during the night. The thought, for once, wasn't entirely unsettling.

_Maybe I'm still dreaming_, Skye thought, letting her eyes flutter close again. _I should wake up_.

She remained still, her back pressing into Lucas's chest. He breathed in unison with her, his breath stirring the strands of hair lying across her cheek. It all felt so real – especially the pressure of his stiff dick pressing into the small of her back.*

Skye's eyes snapped open. She tensed, tried to calm herself to keep from waking Lucas up. Her hand reached down, wrapped around his wrist. Slowly, painstakingly, she shimmied out from beneath his arm. The crisp morning air nipped her skin, sapped away all the warmth Lucas had provided. No doubt he had been freezing his ass off during the night, thus forcing him to seek warmth from the only possible source: Skye.

That's what she tried to convince herself, though her heart knew otherwise.

The fire had burned down to nothing. All the kindling had been used up, and with nothing but rocks to feed on, the fire had died, leaving a heap of ashes in its wake. Skye stepped around it as she hurried to her feet. Her clothes were dry for the most part, though mildly damp. She sniffed them, cringed. Smelling of mildew, they were the last thing she wanted to put on.

Not that she smelled like a rose herself. Skye glanced at Lucas, couldn't help but notice the peaceful look on his face. His features had softened until none of his burdens were etched therein, revealing his youthful face. Had Taylor been younger, his son may have resembled him. But looking down at Lucas then, Skye wasn't reminded of the Commander. The memory of the younger Lucas giving her terras rose up in her mind, reminding her of the kindness she had seen in his face in the wake of her appearance with the 5th pilgrimage.

Shaking the thought from her head, Skye hopped to the mouth of the cave. The sun had risen high in the sky, made the spray of the waterfall arch into a rainbow. Skye marveled at the beauty of it, trying to remember if she had ever seen a rainbow before she had arrived at Terra Nova. The air back in the future had been so thick with pollution and dangerous particles that the sun hardly ever kissed your face.

Her ankle pulsated angrily. Skye glanced down at it, winced at the amount of swelling that peeked out from beneath the sock she had wrapped around it the night before. She carefully unwrapped the cloth, tossed it over to the remains of the fire.

Lucas shifted in his sleep but didn't rouse.

Stepping into the water, hissing as the cold chilled her to the core, Skye waded past the falls, waded deeper into the lake until her feet no longer touched bottom. A gentle current played with her, toyed with her, but didn't drag her like its ferocious brother forty feet above it. Skye treaded water, let her body adjust to the chill. Despite protesting the movement, her ankle already felt better, the cold water once again counteracting the swelling. The maggots lost their grip on what little remained of her wound, floated away. She wasn't sad to see them go.

Dunking her head beneath the water, Skye ran her hands through her hair, tried to rid herself of the grit that had collected there. Her fingers snagged on knots, made her wince. Surfacing for air, she let herself float on her back. Her mother had once told her that her father had made a rocking cradle after Skye had been born. The water gently pushed and pulled in the same fashion, almost lulled her into a brief sleep.

As her mind drifted into her subconscious, the memory of Lucas's arms wrapped around her – along with the morning "surprise" that had accompanied it – snapped her awake. Eyes fluttering open, she stared up at the sky. The waters beneath her, so dark she could hardly see their depths, hardly compared to the bright, clear blue that stretched above her.

The beauty failed to distract Skye from her thoughts. The dreams she had dreamt still nagged at the back of her mind, threatened to overwhelm her. One in particular sent a pleasurable shiver coursing down her spine until it settled between her legs, filling her with a yearning she hadn't felt before. Skye swallowed thickly, tried to ignore the sensation.

The falls thundered nearby, though the sound no longer bothered her. She stared up at the cascading water, relived the moment Lucas had disappeared over the edge and had nearly died. Her brow furrowed. She could've just let him die. It would've made things easier. Instead, her only means of defense was to try and get ahead of him. What good would that do in the long run? He was a genius, and though she was smart, Skye was far from being as brilliant as Lucas. She would never get ahead. She might as well just give up.

But why did she save him? The thought nagged her, made her bite her lip in dismay. Killing wasn't in her nature, like Lucas had pointed out, but if it meant she could stay alive…?

"Good morning."

Skye shrieked, nearly inhaled water. Spluttering, she spun around, saw nothing but the waterfall. Heart pounding against her chest, she twisted around, scanned the pool.

Nothing.

A feeling of unease crept down her spine. Lucas's voice had been so _clear_ beside her ear. It couldn't have been a figment of her imagination. Then again, she hadn't heard him come into the water.

She wrapped her arms around herself, treaded water as she slowly turned in a full circle.

Water lapped at her back. "Do you like swimming?"

Skye whipped in the direction of Lucas's voice, caught a glimpse of his mischievous grin before he disappeared beneath the water. Skye kicked around, tried to see him. She felt his arm brush her leg for just a moment. Seeing nothing, she reached out with her feet, tried to feel him moving through the water.

"You haven't answered my question, Bucket."

Behind her again. This time, he stayed above water long enough for Skye to face him before he disappeared again. She reached out in the direction he had gone, felt nothing but water slide through her fingers. Still rattled from being scared, she nevertheless felt an amused smile touching her lips. What kind of genius played hide and seek? Another thought crossed her mind. What kind of psycho played hide and seek?

Someone who wasn't that much of a psycho.

"You can't hear me if you're underwater," Skye heard herself say. She paddled in a circle, tried to guess where Lucas would resurface next.

His breath rolled over the back of her neck. "That's not necessarily true."

Skye spun around, found herself face to face with Lucas. Before she could say anything, he leaned forward, planted his lips on hers. It was chaste, quick, just a peck on the lips.

Skye's fist came up in reflex, connected with his nose. Lucas sank back, bewilderment crossing his face. Skye's eyes widened, her lips still tingling from his kiss.

Lucas slapped her across the face. Skye suppressed a cry as pain exploded through her cheek. Her flesh stung as she fell away, tears of pain pushing at the corners of her eyes. Lucas's eyes flashed, his face hardening.

"Don't _ever_ hit me again," he snarled, kicking away from her.

Skye remained in the water long after that, her hand cupping her cheek. Anger and frustration mixed with the hatred she had somehow forgotten about within the past day or so. And here she had been thinking he wasn't such a bastard! She kicked herself mentally for that.

The heaviness in her limbs from treading so long in the water drove her to the mouth of the cave. Lucas had coaxed another fire to life. He sat with it between him and the cave's entrance, his face partially obscured by the flames. Skye dared to approach it, the cool morning air chilling her dripping skin.

She sat opposite him, determined to keep the fire between them. He tried to meet her eyes through the flames, but she refused to look at him. She didn't want to stare into the eyes of a monster.

"I'm…sorry," Lucas finally said, his voice bouncing off the cave's walls. "For hitting you." He passed a hand over his face, massaged an eyebrow. His eyes closed, a heavy sigh slipping past his lips. "My father said I never could control myself when I got angry."

Skye shook her head, still refused to meet his gaze. He stared longingly through the flames, tried to see a flicker of forgiveness in her face. Hatred creased her features instead, made his handprint on her cheek redder than the tomato they sold in the Terra Nova marketplace. Lucas swallowed thickly, tried to put his brilliant mind to work in an area he had little experience in.

"I didn't mean to," he said, his voice quiet. "I would never hurt you, Bucket."

"Don't call me that," Skye snapped.

Silence.

"Skye."

The way her name rolled off his tongue made Skye pause. She finally looked up, met his gaze across the fire. Days before, she would have expected him to twist it in such a way that she would never be able to hear her own name without shuddering in disgust. Now, she couldn't ignore the tenderness in his voice. She almost forgot the stinging in her cheek, almost forgot the reasons why she had labeled him a psycho.

"I don't believe you." The words slipped past her throat before she could even register their meaning. Skye wanted to kick herself, wanted to take them back, wanted to take back the venom that dripped off them.

Something akin to disappointment flickered in Lucas's face, but Skye heard herself continuing, the pent-up emotions that she stifled for so long erupting in a spew of biting words.

"Sick fucks like you," she spat, "don't say sorry. You have no _concept_ of saying sorry, because you don't have a heart! You can't feel guilty!"

She saw his eyes harden, turn ten shades darker than his normal jade green color. Skye tensed, jutted out her chin in defiance, expected him to lash out and hit her again – because that's what she wanted. She wanted a reason to really hate him, because she had run out of reasons – and that disturbed her more than the man's capability of evil.

Lucas sighed instead, pressed two fingers into his throbbing temple. Nodding his head, he picked up his clothes from beside the fire, quickly shimmied the knife out of one of his pockets. Knife in hand, he brushed by her.

"I'm going to catch breakfast," he called over his shoulder, his voice flat. "Don't do anything stupid, Bucket."

Skye watched him leave, felt something deflate in her chest. Tears of frustration pricked her eyes. She wiped them away angrily, winced as pain emanated through her tender cheek. She tried to use the pain to remind herself of why she loathed Lucas, tried to force the hatred back into her soul.

Her lips tingled instead, reminding her of the chaste, impromptu kiss. She reached up, gently fingered her lips. The thought made her heart trip, if only slightly. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction Lucas had gone.

"_I would never hurt you, Bucket."_

She would believe that the day her cheek stopped throbbing – or so she hoped.

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><p>P.S. You guys are probably going to hate me more for this chapter than for my evil cliffhanger back in chapter 9, huh? Merry Christmas…? Lol.<p>

*That was for you fangirls – since I know we _all_ wish we could wake up in Lucas's arms and feel _that_ in the morning. Roflmao.


	13. A Scrambled Mind

**A/N:** Well, your responses weren't as bad as I expected! Although, **NumberSixteen**, I'm a bit concerned with yours. It sounds a bit…threatening. Lol.

**Captainriver**, if Skye is falling hard on Stockholm Syndrome, then Lucas fell hard on Lima Syndrome a long time ago. Muhahahaha!

**DreamingWithMyEyesWideOpen**, this chapter is dedicated to you!

It's Christmas Eve over here, by the way, so I probably won't be able to update as much today and tomorrow due to spending time with the family. Thanks for all your patience and understanding!

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><p>Lucas left Skye alone for a few hours as he foraged for food – though he was more concerned about working things out in his mind than catching breakfast, despite the insistent rumbling in his stomach. He didn't stray too far from the cave, however. He wanted to keep an eye on Skye, though he was sure she wouldn't be going anywhere. Not with her mind scrambled like it was.<p>

Not that his wasn't scrambled.

He struggled to understand the discord in his mind. He was so used to patterns and formulae in his thinking process. Very few things made his mind unravel – even his father could hardly do that. With his father, at least, his determination to end the man he so readily despised kept his mind from succumbing to irrational thought – for the most part, at least. His father aggravated him more than he would let on, but that didn't mean his mind would suddenly lose its ability to structure coherent thought.

Like it did now.

He thought he had figured out Skye. Her reaction to his brief kiss, in his mind, had been unprecedented. He had been _sure_ he had everything figured out. She hadn't reacted in such a way to that Shannon boy, had she? Then again, she'd had a crush on the boy, so no doubt kissing was on her mind in the first place.

She didn't have a crush on Lucas, from what he could tell. The loathing that had returned in her eyes after he had hit her – there wasn't any doubt. All his hard work, his persistent questions, his opening up to her – all _wasted_ because of his stupid reflex. He hated himself for that, hated himself for the first time in days in the wake of failing himself. The weight of it all crushed his shoulders, almost bowed him to the ground as he stopped by a flowing part of the river.

Staring into the waters, Lucas glared at his reflection. The cuts were healing rather nicely on his face, restoring it to its normal appearance, but they did little to detract from the deep lines that symbolized his burdens. They were the same lines that creased his father's face, the same ones that made Lucas seem as weary as the Great Commander.

Lucas dashed the reflection to pieces with his foot, scattering the water in a high arc as a yell of frustration ripped from his throat. This wasn't what he wanted – to feel so lost in his own mind, to have nothing but the Badlands to look forward to. He'd had Terra Nova in his command! He had _owned_ it, had stripped it away from his father, and had lost it.

And now he had lost Skye due to the same ill-controlled reaction.

Lucas stepped into the river, crouched to effectively catch breakfast. A creature darted forward, skimmed past his hands relatively untouched. Lucas's brow furrowed, tried again the second time, found he couldn't effectively wrap his fingers around the creatures. He was too focused on the memory of teaching Skye how to catch food the day before. He could still feel the warmth of her body pressing up against his, could still feel his hands guiding hers through the water. The laughter that had filled the space between them reverberated in his ears.

Another creature slipped by unnoticed.

Lucas shook his head, tried to focus on something else. For once, his mind wasn't intent on concentrating on anything but Skye. The look on her face the day before, when he had been so close to kissing her after she had successfully caught food with his help, rose up in his mind's eye, was overshadowed by the hatred on her face that morning. The flames had leapt and crackled between them, though Lucas had stared through them to see Skye. The way she refused to look at him…

The slap of a fin against his leg brought him back down. With a curse, Lucas lashed out with the knife, plunged it into the nearest creature as it darted past. The steel bit into the slick flesh, nearly buried itself into the bottom of the river. The fish thrashed, squirmed ineffectively. Lucas yanked it off the knife, slit its head to end its panic. The creature stilled in his hands; its blood flowed over his fingers, dripped away into the water.

He had so much blood on his hands – that of Lieutenant Washington's, of his father's, of people whose faces he was starting to forget because they were so insignificant now. He had seen those faces in Skye's eyes, however – and though he felt no remorse, he had felt something stir in his chest. He had seen it in Skye's eyes – _monster_, she was thinking. _Sick fucking bastard_.

If only he could go back to the moment when he had first seen Skye walk into Terra Nova, to the moment where he had intentionally met her in the marketplace, to the moment where her mantis green eyes had shined with gratitude. He remembered seeing her following him around as discreetly as possible, which had been very discrete, much to Lucas's surprise. No wonder she had made a good spy – she had been spying and hiding and stalking since her early youth.

She didn't want to betray the colony again, Lucas realized as he wrapped large leaves around the fish to protect it while he went looking for more food. Skye had spent three years doing just that, and it was too much for her. Helping him was just another form of betrayal, even if she wasn't directly betraying Terra Nova itself. She wouldn't open up unless she thought he wasn't a threat to the colony anymore – which he was, but that wasn't the point.

Straying from the river, Lucas felt his mind finally clicking into gear, finally reverting back to its normal state. His eyes grew distant as the clogs whirred and sped along, churning out calculations and scenarios – only they weren't anything related to the portal or anything he had ever done in the past. They were Skye problems, and he was determined to solve them.

When he returned to the cave, Skye sat with her back to the mouth of the cave. She had slipped into her dry clothes sometime after Lucas had gone. He was sad to see most of her flesh covered up again. During the night, when he had waited until Skye had fallen asleep to wrap his arms around her, he had let his eyes linger over her exposed skin until he was positive she was sleeping. When he had lain down beside her, he had, in a moment of weakness, run his hand lightly over her skin. She had shifted in her sleep beneath his touch, had pressed further into him, had murmured in her sleep. If only she could react that way when she was awake!

Skye's face had hardened in his absence. He could see her warring with herself. As he stepped into the cave, she glanced up sharply at him, startled. Anger creased her face, and for a moment Lucas thought she had reserved it for him, but as he approached, the loathing was directed toward herself.

Unwrapping it from the leaves, Lucas dropped the creature into the fire to cook, his eyes focused on Skye's face. She refused to look at him once again, her own gaze centered on the flames. Lucas reached over, placed a large leaf in front of her. His stubble snagged on her hair for just a moment, just long enough for him to inhale her scent. She didn't smell as nice as she had when she had stepped into the rover with him – only to later betray him again, he duly noted – but the scent he had come to look forward to still remained, however faint.

"What's this?" Skye asked in clipped tones, her voice strained.

Lucas glanced down at the object he had placed on the leaf. "It's a fruit."

Skye's eyebrow arched in disbelief. "Doesn't look like one."

"Neither do the green ones at the marketplace," Lucas countered, stepping away from her as he felt her shift uncomfortably in response to their close proximity. "These don't grow near Terra Nova, but they are one of the best I've ever had."

Skye prodded the thick peel of the strange fruit, her face wrinkling in disgust. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have the same tastes as you."

Lucas suppressed a sigh of frustration, sat down beside her. She didn't shift away, much to his pleasure, but she still stared straight ahead. Lucas reached out, gently touched her face with his fingers. She didn't flinch, though he felt her tense beneath his touch. He was sure she was afraid he would hit her again if she reacted unsavory. The thought made his chest ache.

"Bucket," he said, letting the nickname roll off his tongue, "look at me."

She pulled away from his fingers. Stubborn girl. Lucas frowned, hooked his fingers around the back of her neck, forced her to look at him. The mantis green of her eyes had changed to a dark, forest green, as if she had the ability change not only the color of her hair but of her eyes, too – like some kind of chameleon, now that Lucas thought about it. It made sense, what with her constant fluctuations in emotions – and some said _Lucas_ was the one with the mood swings!

He brushed a few strands of hair out of her face, kept his grip tight as she tried to unsuccessfully move away. He shook his head, pulled her close to him. Pressing his forehead against hers, he let his eyes flutter close. Skye was still rigid, though her breath wavered against his face.

"Bucket," he whispered, "I…understand what's going on in your head." He was sure of it. "I can only imagine the nasty names you're calling me right now." He opened his eyes, stared into hers. "What do I have to do to get you to believe me?"

Skye pulled her face out of his hands. "Take me back home."

Lucas passed a hand over his face, massaged an eyebrow. "You know I can't do that." _Back to square one_, he thought sourly, pulling away from her.

Retrieving his clothes from beside the fire once again, he slipped into them – now that he was thoroughly dry – and prodded the creature in the fire, trying to gauge whether it was ready or not. He kept Skye in the corner of his eye. She sat very still. If not for the occasional blink of an eye and the rise and fall of her chest, he would've thought she was petrified.

After a moment, she reached out to the fruit, began to peel away the skin. Lucas smirked to himself, plucked the creature out of the fire. He cut slabs off of it with his knife, set them on the leaf in front of Skye. He saw her eyes linger on his hand for just a moment before the walls came crashing back down in her face.

"We'll stay here for today," Lucas decided, his eyes focused on her expression. Just as he expected – a flicker of surprise, followed by confusion, crossed her face. "That way," he continued, gesturing to her ankle, "you can rest."

"Why do you care?" Skye snapped, finally meeting his eyes on her own accord.

The words that came out of Lucas's mouth were entirely different than the ones he thought in his head. "We have to increase our pace, or we'll never get to the Badlands. Tomorrow, you should be able to walk better as long as you keep off your foot today."

He watched as understanding etched itself in her features. Something akin to disappointment passed over her face like a shadow, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. Lucas frowned, for once his ingenious mind uncomprehending.

They ate in silence, the tension so strong that Lucas was sure it would strangle him. He opened his mouth to speak several times, found he could say very little – though hundreds of thoughts raced through his mind, yearning to be spoken. Skye fidgeted, twitched nervously beside him. The hatred on her face was slowly dissipating as they ate – as was Lucas's handprint that still lingered on her cheek. The red had almost faded away, though Lucas thought he saw a hint of a purple-black bruise creeping along her jaw.

"What do you need me for?" she suddenly asked, shattering the silence.

_For everything_, Lucas thought, barely biting back the words. "The less you know, the better." He saw suspicion cross her face. "Don't worry," he assured her, "it won't be horrible or anything."

The look in her eyes begged to differ.

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><p>P.S. Ugh, I feel like I didn't stay true to character again! Ugh! Guess that means I have to re-watch the last three episodes of Terra Nova, huh? Lol.<p> 


	14. Just For Warmth

**A/N:** You guys have no idea how happy I get when you all tell me that I'm being too hard on myself and that the characters are as true as you think the writers for _Terra Nova_ made them. I can't thank you all enough for that!

Ugh, I'm so stuffed on Christmas food. I hope all of you are having a wonderful holiday! Whether you celebrate Christmas, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, or nothing at all, may you all have good tidings and lots of good cheer! (Wow…that was so cliché. Hahahaha.)

It's almost midnight over here, but I'm posting this just for you guys! Merry Christmas!

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><p>Skye hardly slept that night. Her mind reeling, she found herself staring up at the high ceiling of the cave, watching the flicker of the dying flames dance across the glistening rocks. Lucas had long ago drifted off, or so it seemed. Skye glanced over at him for a moment, saw the shadows playing with his features. He really <em>was<em> handsome, even if Skye was sickened by the thought. What bothered her more, however, was the fact that the waves of disgust that had kept her from looking at him days before was quickly receding, leaving her with a piqued interest instead.

Huddling close to the fire, she wondered whether she would ever seen Terra Nova again, whether she would ever see Commander Taylor's weathered and worn face. She missed talking with him, missed seeing his characteristic smile stretch across his face and the twinkle sparkle in his eyes. She missed saying hello to everyone – even missed the coy smirk twitch across Boylan's face. She hadn't realized how much she could ever miss any place.

She wondered how her mother was doing. As Lucas shifted in his sleep, Skye pictured her mother safe and sound, just out of the Sixers' reach. With the antidote in Dr. Shannon's capable hands, she would recuperate – assuming the anxiety of knowing her daughter had been kidnapped by a madman didn't kill her first.

Glancing over at Lucas, she also wondered how the Commander was dealing with Lieutenant Washington's death. To think his own flesh and blood had pulled that trigger! Skye hadn't been there to see it, thankfully, but the gunshot had been heard through the entire colony; it didn't take long for the news to reach Skye's inquisitive ears. Years of spying for the Sixers had made her susceptible to vying for as much information as possible. Her lips tightened at the thought.

If she had known that she was inadvertently working for Lucas Taylor…Skye wasn't sure she would've reacted any different, not when her mother's life had been on the line. Her gaze lingering on Lucas's serene face, she suddenly felt lost. Would she have been against working for him? Then again, three years ago he had been a recluse hiding out in the predator-infested terrain – his size of his threat to the colony had been miniscule. Like he had told her, the Commander had been very heavy handed in regards to keeping the entire matter a family secret.

Hence the 'Off Limits' label on Snakehead Falls, where Lucas had scratched his equations into the lichen-covered rocks in an attempt to taunt his father.

Skye passed a hand over her face, wandered away from the diminishing fire. Stepping right up to the mouth of the cave, she sat down, hung her legs over the edge, let her injured ankle soak in the freezing water. Inhaling sharply, she grit her teeth against the instant numbing power of the water, her eyes focusing on the nocturnal world ahead of her.

After a while, she returned to the fire, fed more kindling to the flames in an attempt to coax more heat out of. Lying down on her back, she yearned for warmth, goosebumps prickling her flesh. With the cold of the water seeping from her ankle into her very soul, she tried to imagine herself back in her bed with her thick, warm blanket draped over her, keeping her heat insulated. The thought only made her shiver as the chill in the cave became more apparent.

Skye's gaze flicked over to Lucas. His chest rose and fell in the rhythm of sleep, breaths even and shallow. Despite the cold, he seemed incredibly warm, as though he had an internal heater set to maximum heat. His button-up shirt was no doubt much warmer than the two tank tops Skye wore.

_It would be so easy_, her mind told her, _to just lay up against him and warm up._

Skye tried to shake the thought out of her head, found herself staring at Lucas's sleeping body. Thought she was entirely against it, she didn't see a problem with trying to warm up for just a _few_ moments. Lucas seemed to be a deep sleeper; the chances that she would wake him up were slim.

"No," she hissed to herself, rolling onto her side – _away_ from him. The cold rock floor pressed into her, hard and unyielding. The chill seeped through her clothes, sent shivers rolling through her.

The cold had to have numbed her mind. It wasn't until the shivers began to subside that Skye realized she had turned around, had sidled up beside Lucas, had rested her had against her shoulder. Horror would've rolled through her, would've made her flinch away, but the warmth of his body dulled her rationale, made her eyelids heavy. She felt her arm wrap around him, felt her head reposition itself on his shoulder and inch towards Lucas's neck. It was as though she had become separated from her body, had lost all control of herself, yet could still feel everything.

_It's just for warmth_, she told herself, eyelids fluttering close. His stubble brushed her forehead. _If you don't, you'll freeze to death. It's for survival only._ With her ear pressed against his chest, she listened to his breathing, listened to his slow, steady heartbeat – found herself being lulled by the sounds.

_It'll only be for a few minutes until you're warm again_, she tried to convince herself, even as she felt the comfort of sleep wrapping around her.

The last thing she was distinctly aware of before nodding off was the fact her cheek no longer throbbed. The pain had disappeared long ago.

"Bucket?"

Skye shifted in her sleep. Dreams lingered in her mind, though she was slowly coming out of them. They all revolved around warmth, some of them – yet again – featuring Lucas. A soft smile graced her lips in her stupor, her eyes still closed.

A quiet chuckle rumbled in her ear. Her brow furrowed slightly, her fogged brain trying to discern the source of the sound. It died away, leaving her with just the sound of steady breathing and a heartbeat.

She slipped back into sleep, her weary body eager for the much needed rest. Drifting in and out of consciousness, she became aware of a distinct smell – musky, definitely the smell of a man. She felt something prickle against her forehead, felt her arm tighten around something solid – definitely not the pillow she was used to.

Shifting once again, Skye forced herself up out of the comforting embrace of sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, squeezed shut as light chased away the darkness she had become accustomed to. Brow furrowing, she tried again, found it hard to see through her squinted eyes.

"Good morning."

Her eyes flew open again, stinging as they tried to adjust to the midmorning light. Her eyes fell on a chin coated with stubble. Her fogged mind still struggling to understand, she let her gaze slide up. She lingered on soft, inviting lips before letting her eyes roam up the rest of the face. Eyes the color of newborn spring grass met hers, their expression as soft as the lips Skye had just seen.

"This was the last thing I expected, Bucket," he murmured, his voice rumbling through her.

As his arms tightened to draw her closer, Skye's mind suddenly clicked on, realization crashing over her. She stiffened, pushed herself out of his embrace. Her ankle gave out beneath her as she attempted to push herself to her feet, made her knock her knees against the rock floor. Lucas pushed himself up onto his elbows, his brow furrowing.

Skye pushed the hair out of her face, tried to compose herself. Rocking back on her heels, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, squeezed them shut in the hopes that she was dreaming.

"Pinching yourself isn't going to work," Lucas said, a trace of frustration underlying the amusement in his words. "You're already awake."

Skye was too afraid to open her eyes. She relented, however, and dared to meet Lucas's gaze. Disappointment hid behind his pupils, masked only by the mirth that came in response to her flustered reaction. Skye glanced away, felt heat flush the back of her neck.

"And here I thought you hated me."

Skye's eyes flashed, though the heat in her face betrayed her. "I was freezing to death!"

Lucas sighed, passed a hand over his face. "There it is again."

"What?"

"The denial." Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Lucas stood to his feet, stretched until his back popped. "Can you walk today?"

Gladdened to have a reason to distract herself from the stutters of her heart, Skye gingerly placed weight on her injured foot. Her ankle protested, but spending the previous day without putting any pressure on it had done some good. Gritting her teeth, she found she could stand on it long enough to limp forward without experiencing excruciating pain. She nodded.

"Good." Voice clipped, Lucas procured the last of the meat from the night before, tossed over a slab to Skye. "Eat up. We leave in ten."

Skye's eyes followed him as he went to the mouth of the cave and crouched down to splash water on his face. As she munched on what was to be her breakfast, she watched Lucas do the same, though his mind was focused elsewhere. His eyes focused on something far off, something way beyond the dense tree line. The thundering of the falls kept Skye from hearing what he muttered to himself, the movement of his lips barely perceptible.

Skye had managed to gather her wits about her when Lucas returned to her side. Stepping into his boots, he glanced at her, a sparkle dancing in his eyes. Skye's brow furrowed.

"What?" she snapped.

A smirk touched his lips. "At least you liked it," he murmured as he brushed past.

By the time Skye realized what he was talking about, he had stepped outside of the cave, disappearing from view. Skye bit her lip, felt heat creep up her neck again, felt butterflies in her stomach. Struggling to swallow the last of her breakfast, she limped after him slowly, unease slithering down her spine.

She _had_ liked it.

* * *

><p>P.S. Hehe, I added a bit of fluff in there just because it's Christmas. Do you like? x3 Yes, I know, it's relatively short, but bear with me! It's late over here – and I'm dozing as I write!<p> 


	15. One Upped

**A/N:** I hope all of you had a wonderful Christmas! I know I did, except for the fact that I think I'm getting sick. :(

For all of you Lucas/Skye fans, **Anjelia** created a thread on Fan Forum dedicated to the two of them. Check it out: fanforum(.)com /f375/creepy-love-%7Blucas-skye%7D-1-because-three-scenes-sparks-chemistry-there-63034176/ [Please remove spaces, lol.]

I also found another Lucas/Skye video on Youtube! Check it out: youtube(.)com/watch?v=DqcuXgeW_oc

Enjoy this next installment!

* * *

><p>Skye struggled to keep up with Lucas's pace. Limping and skipping after him, she fought to keep herself balanced, tried to focus her attention away from her throbbing foot. It was easy to distract herself that morning, what with thoughts of Lucas's warm embrace pervading her mind and keeping her from thinking about anything else.<p>

Lucas moved at a fast clip ahead of her, hardly said a word as they forged ahead endlessly. Skye frowned, stared at the scars on the back of his head and neck. He had shut down after that morning's events, like _he_ was the one who had gone out of character and snuggled some monster that he was supposed to loath. Skye couldn't wrap her head around it, could hardly wrap her head around what was going on inside _her_ own head.

The sun crept higher and higher, beat down through the trees. Sweat broke out on Skye's forehead, made her tank tops stick to her skin. Insects, ancient predecessors to modern ones, whirled about her head, tried to settle on the sheen of her skin. Batting them away to keep them from biting her – she had seen what their bites could do to a human in the clinic – she found herself lagging further and further behind Lucas. He seemed to be in a world all his own again, ensconced in whatever it was his brain was formulating next.

Skye paused behind the river, crouched down to splash water on her face, on the back of her neck. Stripping off one of her tank tops, she soaked it in the water, wrapped it around her head to cool down. As her hands fumbled with the fabric to make a knot, a glimmer caught her attention. Parting the tall reeds bordering the river, Skye felt all the breath leave her lungs.

The gun, the one Lucas had lost in the rapids. It had somehow floated downstream without either of them noticing, had caught on the reeds and stayed there. Skye glanced over her shoulder, saw Lucas's back turned to her. She bit her lip, stared at the gun again. If she could use it once, she could use it again. She was sure of it.

Her hand closed around the grip. The metal was cool against her skin, sent a shiver running through her. It felt heavier than she remembered. No doubt the water had seeped into it, had filled the magazine and the empty cavities within the weapon. It had suffered minute damage, though the flashlight had shattered sometime during its trip through the rapids.

Skye picked it up, glanced over her shoulder again. Lucas had kept on ahead, unaware that she had stopped. She stood up, tucked the gun in the small of her back. The tank tops did little to conceal it – their formfitting design made sure of that – but so long as Skye kept her back to Lucas, he wouldn't notice it. So far as he knew, the gun was lost, never to be found or used again. Skye would use it later, when she was sure she could outrun Lucas on a healed foot if necessary, but for now, she knew that keeping Lucas oblivious would work in her favor.

"Will you slow down?" she snapped, limping as quickly as possible to reach Lucas.

He cast a sidelong glance at her, as though suddenly becoming aware that she was present. "I thought you said you could walk on it."

"Yeah," Skye said, "but not very fast. I'm not superhuman, you know."

"Superhuman," Lucas snorted, though darkness flickered across his face. "You've spent too much time with my father."

"What do you think? He became my guardian after my parents supposedly died." Skye's thoughts drifted away from Lucas for a moment, focused on memories of Taylor. She couldn't help but wonder if he had sent a search party after her. Her heart plummeted; if he had, they would have found her by now.

"You must think very highly of him then." A steel edge had crept into Lucas's voice, his eyes hardening.

Skye nodded, winced as pain lanced up her leg. "Why wouldn't I? He's done everything he can to keep the colony save. He really wants to give everybody a second chance."

"Not everybody." Lucas fixated his gaze on her, eyes flinty. "Not me."

Skye shook her head, steeled herself against the hatred and loathing in the eyes of the Commander's son. "You're still alive, aren't you?"

He opened his mouth to speak, shut it. Skye saw the cogs turning in his mind, trying to analyze what she had just pointed out. He pursed his lips, passed a hand over his face. His pace had slowed to match hers, though Skye wasn't sure he had consciously done it.

"Only because my _father_," he finally said, spitting out the word, "can't bring himself to kill anybody."

"What about Philbrick?"

Lucas stopped in his tracks, whipped around to face Skye. "How do you know that?" he demanded. He seized her by the shoulders. "How?"

Skye stiffened in his grasp, managed to keep a measure of calm in her reply despite wondering whether or not he'd hit her again. "I was a spy, remember? Hearing things I'm not supposed to is something I'm good at."

Lucas's grip relaxed. A sigh slipped past his lips, his eyes fluttering close for just a moment. Passing a hand over his face, he hooked his fingers through Skye's tangled hair, tugged so she was looking directly at him. She stifled a wince as pain webbed through her skull. Lucas's eyes flashed.

"What else do you know?" he asked.

Skye struggled to swallow, the tilt of her head constricting her throat. "You disappeared that night, and Taylor had Boylan help him bury the body." Lucas's hand tightened. "That's all," Skye said, thus time unable to keep from wincing. She met his gaze as levelly as she could. "I swear."

Lucas stared at her, unblinking. "Don't ever mention that again." He nodded, relaxed his grip ever so slightly. Something flickered in his eyes. "Touch me, Bucket."

Skye brow furrowed. "What?"

"Touch me," he repeated. He grabbed her wrist with his free hand, brought it up to his face. Manipulating her hand to open wide, he forced her palm against his cheek, kept her there despite her struggles. "Like you did after you saved me."

Skye swallowed thickly, tried to shake her head. Lucas's grasp kept her from moving much. His eyes hardened, darkness shadowing his features again. Sensing that the man was liable to strike, Skye pressed her hand against his cheek on her own accord, rubbed her thumb across his skin. His stubble prickled in her palm, though the sensation was far from unpleasant. She watched as his eyelids fluttered close, his features softening. The hand in her hair slackened.

"See?" Lucas's voice had grown husky, had softened as much as his eyes. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Skye yanked her hand away, heat creeping up the back of her neck. Lucas shook his head, a soft smirk barely concealing the frustration in his eyes. Brushing past her, he kept his hand around her wrist, tugged her along. Limping as best as she could to keep up with his insistent tugging, Skye struggled to keep unwanted thoughts out of her mind. The feel of his face pressing into her cheek still burned in her palm, threatened to etch itself into her memory so she could be plagued by it every waking moment. Coupled with the events from that morning, she felt dizzy with confusion.

This was the kind of thing she would've found herself talking to Taylor about, whether or not he coaxed it out of her. She tried to imagine what he would say, found that all she could picture was his stern face and his hurt, disappointed gaze. Besides, if it were any other boy, she would've have a problem dealing with whatever was going on – but it was _Lucas_, the Commander's psychologically unstable son. Telling Taylor about the things she was thinking about that involved Lucas wasn't feasible, even if it was possible. The man would have a conniption the size of a Spinosaurus.

"It wasn't your fault," she heard herself say.

Lucas glanced over at her, eyebrows knitting together. "What wasn't my fault?"

"What happened to your mother." Skye suppressed a cry as Lucas's hand tightened on her wrist, threatening to cut off her circulation. "They forced your father to choose."

"You talked to Shannon, didn't you?" Lucas's voice had regained its steely edge. Anger flashed in his eyes. "My father hates me," he spat, "because of that day. I could see it in his eyes."

"If he hated you," Skye said slowly, knowing she was walking on eggshells, "why did he save you? He could've easily picked your mother instead and left you to die."

For the third time that morning, Skye had one-upped Lucas. He struggled to come up with a response, his brain unsuccessfully trying to digest the information. He refused to acknowledge it, though it nagged at the back of his mind.

"He didn't have a choice," he finally snarled. "My mother wouldn't let him."

Skye shook her head. "He still could've picked her."

Lucas jerked her forward, silencing her. Silence descended between the two, punctuated only by the sounds of the wildlife around them. The river flowed smoothly beside them, no more than a foot and a half deep again.

The gun pressed painfully into Skye's back, as if trying to remind her of its presence. She shifted uncomfortably, struggling to ignore the pain in her ankle, which had now swelled again. Gritting her teeth through the pain, she found herself focusing on the back of Lucas's head again.

"It must've hurt."

Lucas fixed her with his intense gaze, eyes flashing. Skye forced herself to meet his stare.

"When you got attacked by the Nicoraptor," she continued, eyes darting back to the scars on Lucas's head. "What did you think when you thought you were going to die?"

Lucas's brow furrowed, though the hardness in his eyes dissipated. "I thought about a lot of things," he replied. "Mostly about how I had failed and how my father had beat me once again." He glanced over at her. "I thought about what my mother would've thought about my father banishing me from the colony…and I thought about the girl I gave terras to in the market."

Something fluttered in Skye's stomach. She shook her head. "No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did." Lucas sighed. "I wasn't sure why. All I know is that it helped me get over the panic."

"Sure it did," Skye muttered dryly. Her ankle knocked against an exposed root, made her vision explode with white starbursts. "Can we stop? I need to rest my ankle."

Lucas shook his head. "We'll never make it to where I want to be before nightfall." He stopped, crouched. "Come on, we're wasting time."

Reluctantly, Skye climbed onto his back. If she had been well aware of being wrapped around him in the past few days, she couldn't distract herself from the comfort of being pressed against him again. He moved briskly that morning, keeping a firm grip on Skye's legs. Her neck still ached from his iron grasp, forced her to rest her head against his shoulder to relieve the discomfort.

"Where are we going?" she heard herself ask.

"We're taking a detour."

Her brow furrowed. "A detour?"

He nodded, the hair on his head brushing against her forehead. "We have to get there before nightfall, though."

"What is it?"

"You'll see."


	16. Bioluminescence

**A/N:** I feel like I'm drawing from the movie _Avatar_ with this chapter. (To be honest, though, I really didn't like the movie. It just seemed like it was _Fern Gully_ on steroids. The only upside was Stephen Lang's performance – and he plays as Commander Taylor in _Terra Nova_! Small world, huh?)

Now, for what you've all be waiting for – your belated Christmas present!

* * *

><p>It took a lot of effort on Lucas's part, what with Skye hanging off his back, to get to where he wanted to be before nightfall. They stopped in a small clearing. Skye slid off Lucas's back, glanced around. Her brow furrowed.<p>

"What's so special about this place?" she asked, nudging a fallen stick with her injured foot.

Lucas crouched beside the river, which had diminished to a stream again. Splashing water on his face, he didn't reply until he had caught his breath. "This isn't the place."

Skye eased herself down onto the stump of a fallen tree. Her ankle throbbed and constricted but otherwise felt much better than it had earlier. She could have easily limped the past klick or so, but she had somehow dozed against Lucas's back, her exhaustion from a bad night's sleep finally overcoming her. Weariness etched itself into Lucas's face, however, as he fell down beside her, his forehead glistening with water and sweat.

He didn't sit for long, however. Skye watched him as he pulled together kindling for a fire, watched as he coaxed flames from a spark he had somehow managed to create. Soon, the fire was blazing, and leftover meat from their lunch sizzled within it. While Skye waited for the food to cook, she munched on the fruit Lucas had found. He had been right – it was one of the best fruit she had ever tasted. She could hardly believe the mix of flavors that exploded in her mouth upon biting.

Lucas plucked the fruit out of her hands, took a bite for himself. Skye snatched it back, glared at him. A playful smirk twitched at the corner of Lucas's lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Skye fought the urge to smirk back as she took another bite, letting the taste of the fruit overwhelm her senses.

"I'll have to bring the seeds back to Terra Nova," Skye said aloud to herself. "I've got to have more of these."

She saw something flicker across Lucas's face, though he was quick to conceal it. He turned away, glanced at the meat in the fire. Prodding it with a stick, he plucked it out from the flames, tossed one slab over to Skye as the heated meat burned his fingers. Wincing, he dropped down beside Skye, munched on his meat in unison with her.

"This detour," Skye muttered between bites, "doesn't look any different than what we've seen for the past three days."

"This is where we're staying for the night," Lucas explained, his voice bordering on annoyance. "Our detour isn't far from here." His eyes darted over to her. "Will I have to carry you?"

Skye thought for a moment, shook her head despite the pain in her ankle. "I'll need to ice it first."

Lucas's brow furrowed. "You're joking. How are you supposed to get your hands on ice?"

Skye rolled her eyes. "Oh, I don't know, the river is so freezing, I'm sure it'll be a great substitute."

Lucas looked like he was going to hit himself for his evident stupidity – not that he had been stupid, of course. Skye had to remind herself that. He was a genius, definitely not to be trifled with when it came to wits and intelligence. As much as she had learned to derail Lucas in the past few days, she wasn't sure that she could do it enough to escape him.

With the last remainder of her portion of the meat in her mouth, Skye went over to the river, stripped off her shoe and sock, dipped her foot into the cold water. It instantly numbed her foot, deadened the pain as the chill acted as a compress. The swelling seemed to diminish right before her eyes, though she was sure it was just a trick of the light. If only she had Dr. Shannon's help! Then she wouldn't be feeling any pain. She'd probably have her foot in a cast or something, like she was supposed to.

Thinking for a moment about Dr. Shannon brought to mind the rest of the Shannon family, particularly Josh. Skye wondered how he was taking her absence. First he had lost Kara to a bomb thanks to Lucas, and now he had lost Skye not too long afterward to Lucas. What were the chances of that? It was as though Lucas had a personal vendetta against Josh. Then again, Josh _had_ tried to crack Lucas's skull with a serving tray.

Had it been three days earlier, Skye would've snickered and thought, _Lucas deserved it_. Thinking about it now, however, she felt a twinge of something in her chest – guilt? Perhaps regret? Sympathy, even? Visualizing Josh's assault on Lucas, she flinched more at the sound of the serving tray meeting Lucas's skull than at Lucas punching Josh hard in the face.

Unease twisted in her stomach, shimmied down her spine. Suppressing a shudder, Skye let her foot soak for a few minutes longer before getting up. Remembering a rather horrific history lesson about trench foot during the First World War, she sat down by the fire, tried to dry her foot off before putting her sock and shoe back on.

"What about the fire?" she asked, eyes focused on Lucas as he stood up and stretched. "If we don't put it out, it could get out of control and burn everything."

Lucas shrugged. "It could, but it won't." Swallowing the last of his dinner, he glanced up at the exposed sky. "Perfect timing," Skye heard him mutter. "A new moon."

Skye struggled to her feet, limped to his side. With his back turned, she dared to readjust the gun in the small of her back, hoping to relieve the pressure it put on her spine. The gun relented, if only slightly, as if determined to make her as uncomfortable as possible. Frowning, Skye pulled it out, hid it behind the stump. Lucas turned back to her, the soft hint of a smile playing across his lips. He grabbed her hand instead of her wrist this time, led her away from the fire.

"How far is it?" Skye asked after a while, glancing over her shoulder into the darkness behind her. It was a miracle they could see at all. With no moon, and with their campfire far behind them, they should have been engulfed in pitch black darkness. They weren't nocturnal creatures unlike the predators that had begun to awaken from their sleep during the day; they should have been blind.

"Not far." Lucas tugged on her hand, his fingers tightening slightly around hers.

Trying to ignore the sensation of holding hands with him, Skye limped along, her ankle beginning to protest. They truly hadn't gone far, but with Lucas yanking her along at a pace she could hardly match, the strain on her ankle was almost too much. Sweat beaded on her brow, quickly cooled against her skin as the night chill descended on them.

Despite having her gaze focused on the ground to keep from tripping, Skye began to notice some sort of soft, ambient light creeping into her vision. Daring to look up, she saw light streaming through the thick foliage up ahead. Lucas met her gaze, smiled.

"We're here," he said, slowing for a just a moment. "Ready?"

Skye swiped the back of her hand across her forehead. "For what?"

"For this." Lucas parted the foliage with one hand, pulled her through. Stumbling, Skye managed to catch herself before awe rooted her to the spot.

Plants aglow with light surrounded them. Skye's eyes widened, her breath escaping her. Fungi climbed up huge trees, illuminated their path with green and blue light. Something that looked like a flower, though Skye wasn't sure, glowed purple and blue, its anthers a bright orange. Mushrooms at the base of some of the trees were a bright green, a green akin to the color of Lucas's softened eyes. Insects that may have been predecessors to fireflies whirred around the bright plants, buzzed over Skye's head.

She stared up in wonder, struggling to take it all in. The pain in her foot forgotten, she approached a fallen tree, stared down at the bright green fungus growing over the decomposing bark. She didn't dare touch it, though she was tempted to. Lucas came up beside her, pointed to the fungus.

"It's shelf fungi," he explained, his voice soft, quiet.

Skye nodded, her lips slightly parted in fascination. "What – how is this possible?"

"Bioluminescence." Lucas stuck his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels as Skye did another 360 in an attempt to take it all in. "I'm no biologist, but I think the plants and insects glow because of a chemical production in their body that releases energy in the form of light."

"It's beautiful," Skye whispered, her voice faltering.

"Look." Lucas had kicked aside some dirt, revealing a mass of writhing, glowing worms. "These are glowworms."

Skye limped to his side, stared down at the bioluminescent creatures. Wonderment and awe etched themselves into her face. Nothing seemed to matter in that instant – not the fact that she wasn't at Terra Nova, not the fact that she had been brought there by a man she thought was a psycho.

She glanced up at Lucas, eyes alight with a childish enthusiasm. Lucas's smile broadened, pride and triumph swelling in his chest. Skye turned around, hobbled to one of the standing trees. She spent a few moments examining the green mushrooms, let her gaze travel up the tall tree as it followed the path of the other shelf fungi creeping up its bark. A firefly landed on her shoulder, nearly made her jump if not for the light that blazed in her face as a result of its presence. She laughed, watched it flee from its perch.

"I've never seen anything like it before," she cried, limping over to the next tree. "I didn't know plants and animals could do this!"

She heard Lucas's quiet chuckling, but it did little to disturb her. Taking a few steps back, she craned her head back as far as she could to see how far the glowing fungi grew on the trees. Fireflies massed overhead in the canopy, illuminating the dense network of leaves and branches. It was almost too much for Skye to take in one go.

She sensed Lucas flank her side. "I found this a few months after my father banished me," he said, his voice still low, as though afraid to break the silence. He smirked, glanced at her. "I had the same reaction," he admitted.

"You'd be crazy not to." Skye's eyes were still focused on the swarming fireflies above them. Their ambient yellow light painted her face in soft tones, did the same for Lucas.

The silence stretched as Skye continued to marvel at the sight, the only sounds being that of the buzzing bioluminescent insects. She hadn't been aware of Lucas's body heat until he stepped closer.

"Bucket."

"Hmm?"

She felt Lucas's fingers brush her cheek. "Skye."

The way her name rolled off his tongue made Skye pause. He came around to face her, his fingers lingering on her cheek. Brow furrowing, Skye didn't pull away, the awe of the glowing plants still fogging her senses. Lucas's other hand came up to cup her face, his fingers barely burrowing into her hair. Something skipped in Skye's chest as she met his gaze, that _look_ flickering in his pupils. It took her a moment to realize it was her heart.

Lucas pressed his lips to hers. Skye stiffened in his arms, the sensation almost alien to her. His tongue slid across her lower lip, forced her mouth open to accept him. It wasn't until his tongue touched hers that she felt herself reacting to the kiss. A flurry of sensations overwhelmed her as she opened her mouth further, her tongue pushing against his. Her eyes fluttered close on their own, her body melting into the kiss.

Lucas pulled away for just a moment, his forehead pressing into hers. Skye didn't dare open her eyes, her breath rattling in her chest. Lucas's fingers dug into her hair, tilted her head back as he pressed his lips onto hers again. She felt his hands slide down her back. He pulled her against him, his tongue pushing further into her mouth. She found herself responding with equal fervor, felt her arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer. His teeth nipped her lip playfully, his fingers finding exposed skin beneath her tank tops. Skye shivered as his fingertips traced down her spine, all the sensations tightening her chest.

"Skye," Lucas murmured, pulling away to pepper kisses on her jaw, down her neck. He found a sensitive spot on her neck. Skye gasped as he sucked on it, clutched his shoulders as he nipped the skin.

"Lucas," she moaned, feeling his lips trailing back up to her own. His hands gripped her tightly, crushed her body to his. The stubble on his beard tickled her face, but the feel of his tongue wrapping around hers kept her from giggling in response. Her fingers tangled themselves in his short hair.

Their breath grew heavier and heavier as Lucas deepened the kisses. A low moan rumbled in his throat, rumbled through Skye's chest. A shiver darted down her spine, settled between her legs.

Lucas pulled away, allowed for breath. Skye gasped for air, felt his warm breath rolling over her face. Lucas pressed his forehead against hers again, his nose caressing hers. She felt his lips pull into a smile, barely brushing them over hers.

"Skye," he murmured again, his thumbs running circles over her lower back, "you have no idea how long I've waited for this."

Skye's eyes flew open, her mind suddenly snapping back to reality. She took a step back, managed to disengage herself from Lucas's arms. Breath hitching in her throat, heart pounding against her chest, she passed a hand over her face, found she was shaking.

"C-can we go b-back to the fire?" she stuttered, not daring to meet his gaze. She had already caught a glimpse of the hunger in his eyes, had already seen the contentment on his face. She backed away, fumbling through the thick foliage. The bioluminescence diminished behind her as she tried to limp back to their camp, her mind askew with senses.

Lucas stood, silent and still, amidst the glowing plants and insects, the warmth of Skye's body leaving his. His eyes fluttered close, a sigh escaping his lips. Wasn't this what he had expected? He had come on too strong. But at least he had come on – and Skye hadn't hit him this time around. She had even kissed him back.

Lucas smiled and started after her.

* * *

><p>P.S. It finally happened! Aren't you all happy! I know I am! Rofl.<p>

P.P.S. I just found all the Lucas/Skye scenes on Youtube! They have been graciously uploaded by none other than **Anjelia**, or so I'm assuming due to the similarity in the usernames, lol. Check them out:

youtube(.)com/watch?v=Cz3kytWKUio

youtube(.)com/watch?v=81w1OjXdQ8w

youtube(.)com/watch?v=XaeMg-zjv94

youtube(.)com/watch?v=Q3AvRNGp9LQ


	17. Equation Factored

**A/N:** Hehehe, I knew you'd all like that last chapter. Finally, right? I had so much fun writing it! x3

By the way, I found yet another Lucas/Skye video on Youtube! Check it out: youtube(.)com/watch?v=AfXf_xcmB1M

And so their relationship begins – sorta…

* * *

><p>Skye paced – hobbled, rather – around the fire, still shaking from the experience. Shivers wracked her body, clawed down her spine, settled between her legs until she it was uncomfortable to walk. She'd never been assaulted by so many sensations before – not even when she kissed Josh! It was unlike anything she had felt before. Her mind was reeling from it all, though it was still fogged over. Her lips burned with the feeling of Lucas's lips against hers. The mere thought made her skin twitch and alight with fire, made the hair on her arms prickle.<p>

She had trouble breathing. Her breath kept hitching in her chest, making her all the more breathless. Despite the chill in the night air, she didn't feel the cold. Her heart still thudded against her chest, threatening to crack a rib or two – if not leap out of her chest altogether. Wringing her hands, she still limped around the fire, tried to wrestle her mind back to normal.

"Oh my God," she said, her voice thick in her throat. She could still feel his tongue sliding across hers. "I just – I can't – it's not…"

She dropped down onto the tree stump, buried her face in her hands. She couldn't get the memory out of her head. The pain in her ankle couldn't even distract her. Everything seemed to have stopped around her. Even the flames of the fire seemed to have slowed down, their darting tongues flicking out into the night with an excruciating slowness that played with Skye's vision. Her fingers massaged her temples as she tried to refocus her attention on something other than the feel of Lucas's body against hers.

Skye didn't hear him come back, didn't register the movement behind her until Lucas had straddled the stump, his body molding against her back. His breath warmed her neck, his lips seeking solace on her skin. Skye's eyes fluttered close for a moment, just long enough for another shiver to dart down her spine and settle between her legs. She felt herself pushing against him, her head tilting back for him to have more access to the tender spots on her neck. The feel of his stubble tickling her flesh sent another pleasurable shiver rolling through her.

Her eyes snapped open. She tried to pull away, found that Lucas's arms had hooked around her waist, keeping her close once again. She strained to keep her head away from him, the tiny voice in the back of her head screaming at her, telling her that she needed to get away as quickly as possible – that she was succumbing to a madman bent on destroying her home and her loved ones, Commander Taylor, the Shannons – even Boylan! – included.

"Lucas," she managed to say, startled to find herself breathless once again, "stop. Please."

His lips hovered over her skin for just a moment, finally pulled away. Skye almost cried out, despite herself, as the warmth left her. Biting her lip, she felt her cheeks flush as she watched Lucas circle around the fire, the flickering orange light casting shadows over his face. It was hard to discern the emotions darting across his face, not that Skye could stare at it for too long – her embarrassment threatened to overcome her.

"Did you like it?" he asked, a smirk toying with his lips.

"Yes – wait, no!" Skye blurted. The heat continued to intensify in her face, threatening to burn her flesh.

Lucas's chuckled. "I meant the plants."

Skye wanted to kick herself, wanted to smack the smirk off of Lucas's face. She passed a hand over her face, looked away. "Yes, I did," she said, her voice wavering. "It was beautiful."

Lucas's eyebrows arched suggestively; he nodded. "It certainly was."

Skye's hands fidgeted in her lap, tugged on a few stray strands of thread near her belt loop. She didn't dare look Lucas in the eye, not after what had just happened, not when she knew he was grinning like the maniac he was. His words echoed in her ears, made them turn red to match the color of her cheeks.

"_Skye, you don't know how long I've waited for this._"

The very words made the myriad sensations overwhelm her again. She yanked at a blade of long grass, twirled it between her fingers. Anything to get her mind off the fluttering in her stomach, off the yearning in her chest, off the desire she felt bubbling beneath her skin.

"Why won't you look at me, Bucket?"

Skye shook her head. "I honestly don't have to answer that question, do I?" The blade of grass snapped between her fingers.

Lucas circled back around to her, crouched down in front of her. He reached out, cupped her face, forced her to look at him. "My father isn't here," he said, his voice hardening slightly. "You don't have to worry about his disapproval."

Skye shook her head, moistened her lips when she found them too dry for her to speak. She swallowed thickly. "But you're…" She bit her lip, managed to glance away, her eyes settling on his shirt. "It's wrong."

"Is that what the Great Commander taught you to think?" Lucas forced her to look at him again. "It's not wrong if you like it."

Skye felt her stomach flip. "But that's what's wrong about it," she cried, jumping to her feet. She limped away, ran a hand through her hair as she edged around the fire. "I – I can't…it's so _wrong_."

Lucas's eyes followed her. "What's so wrong about it?"

Skye scrambled to find an answer, realized that she didn't truly have one anymore. "You threatened my mother," she spluttered. "You tried to destroy the colony, and you stabbed Taylor!"

"I've given you my reasons." He stood to his feet, approached her. She backed away slowly, still fighting to keep control over her erratic nerves.

"You're, like – I'm not legal!"

Lucas paused, couldn't help but chuckle. "In the future, you aren't. But this is a new world, and that means there are new rules." He reached out, hooked his fingers through a few belt loops. "Hasn't my father taught you anything?"

Skye tried to pull away from him again, found her resolve quickly crumbling beneath her. She shook her head for the umpteenth time, squeezed her eyes shut. "This is all a dream. I'm just dreaming. I'm probably at the clinic with a concussion."

"Must be some dream," Lucas murmured, his voice next to her ear. "It feels so real, doesn't it?" His fingers traced down her spine, slipped up under her shirt to trace patterns on the bare skin of her lower back. Skye felt herself relax into him. "I bet that Shannon boy doesn't even cut it anymore."

She felt herself nod, heard herself whisper hoarsely, "Not even close."

His lips brushed her jaw, nibbled up to her cheekbone. A strange mix of a groan and outcry slipped past Skye's throat, her head tilting back as the sensations threatened to overcome her once again.

"I can't," she said, her voice wavering again. She gasped, Lucas's teeth biting her neck. "Lucas," she hissed, "I hate you."

"Yes," Lucas agreed, his mouth hovering over hers, "but you like the attention." His tongue darted out, flicked over her lower lip, made her tremble. "You can't help it, Skye. You're a blossoming woman. It's going to happen anyway. Why not with me?" He grinned at the look in her face. "I've factored this equation," he whispered, "and it looks promising. I just need you to help me reconcile it."

Skye pushed his shoulders, though her strength had failed her long ago. "I'm not a genius."

"You don't have to be," Lucas said, a faint smirk touching his lips. "It's not that kind of an equation."

The tiny voice was still screaming in the back of Skye's mind. It shouted at her, called her too many lewd names to count, pointed out that what she was doing was not just wrong but wicked. It told her she should be vomiting, should be clawing at Lucas's face to let him relinquish her. It reminded her of the evils he had done, of Wash's death, of the 26 civilians that had died because of him.

One of Lucas's hands moved away from her back. Skye gasped, her eyes flinging open as Lucas gripped her crotch through her pants. The fluttering intensified in her stomach. Lucas still hovered over her lips, searching her eyes, that smirk still on his face. He crushed his lips to hers, forced her mouth open with his tongue, his hand still lingering on her crotch. Skye felt herself pressing up against him, felt herself pressing down into his hand, her conscience forgotten.

He broke away, let her breath for just a moment. His fingers fumbled with the zipper of her pants, yanked it down, undid the button with a deft motion. His hand slid over her underwear, pressed into her again. She stiffened in his arms, breath hitching in her throat. A low whimper slipped past her lips, emanating from deep within her. Lucas grinned, stared into her eyes. She craned her head, tried to reach his lips. He pulled away, eliciting another whimper. His fingers played with the hem of her underwear.

"This – this is wrong," Skye heard herself say.

Lucas's eyes gleamed. "But you're rebellious, Bucket. It's in your nature to do things you know are wrong."

His fingers slipped under the underwear, touched her exposed skin. Skye gasped, the sensations overwhelming her once again. Lucas's lips silenced a moan, his tongue pushing down her throat. His teeth nipped her lower lip, his fingers working her clit. Skye struggled for breath as he pulled away again, low moans and whimpers slipping past her lips. Lucas's fingers hovered over her opening, gently caressed the folds, eliciting shudders from Skye.

"Tell me you want me," he whispered. "Tell me."

Skye felt the words forming on her lips. She did. She wanted him _bad_.

Suddenly, the look on Taylor's face when he had found out that Skye was a Sixer spy rose up in her mind. Skye stiffened.

"I can't do this," she cried, yanking herself away. She stumbled, fell against the tree stump, jarred her elbows against the wood. She fumbled with her pants, struggled to zip and button herself back up, found her fingers slipping. She dared to glance at Lucas, saw the frustration flash in his eyes.

He sat down across from her, the fire between them once again. His eyes stared her down through the flames. "It'll happen, Bucket," he said, his voice husky. "I know you're scared, but it'll happen soon enough. You can't deny yourself forever."

The fire hissed and popped, punctuating his words.

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><p>P.S. Hehe, this turned out a lot steamier than it was supposed to. *cough*<p> 


	18. He's Not a God

**A/N:** I am absolutely loving your reviews! Yes, bring on the steaminess, right? xP

**Alliel23** recommended the song '_Weapon_' by Matthew Good as an accompaniment to Lucas and Skye's relationship. Ironically, I happen to love that song and now have it on my IPod after seeing it with a _District 9_ music video. Just thought I should share! (By the way, I loved _District 9_. It's a really interesting moving that really touched my heart and brought awareness about the apartheid era in South Africa. I suggest it for all of you!) Here's the link to the song: youtube(.)com/watch?v=XOee1xTUubc

**JJ Alice Heart**, your review had me laughing my ass off. Did you really stick your foot in cold water just because I wrote that Skye did? That had me cracking up, believe me. You made my day with that one.

**LilRamenLover**, we all wish we were Skye at that moment. Lol.

I just came back from reading the most recent chapter in **NumberSixteen**'s _Cut Off Without Amends_. What a twist! Go check it out!

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><p>Skye couldn't – wouldn't – sleep. Lying on her side beside the fire, she stared into the flickering flames, hoping that they would lull her to sleep and shut down her brain for a while. Her body alive with the ghost of sensations, she feared that she'd dream about what had happened. She struggled to keep her eyes open; with every blink, she saw Lucas's lusty gaze staring at her, saw the desire burning in his eyes so fiercely she was sure she would burn beneath the green eyes.<p>

"_Tell me you want me_." His words echoed in her ears, made her want to grab herself to relieve the irritating desire in her groin. She had thought only men felt that way; she now understood that it wasn't that simple.

An image of Commander Taylor rose up in her mind again, reminding her of why she hadn't given in like she had wanted to. She could already see the hurt and horror in his eyes, could see the twitch in his jaw, could see the familiar steel gaze replacing the other emotions in his eyes. He would no doubt ground in his teeth, would no doubt look away in disgust – would no doubt never speak to her again. And that hurt worse than the fact that she was once again betraying Terra Nova – only this time, it wasn't information she was trading in. It was herself.

Finally, her eyes fluttered close, sleep pulling her down into its depths. She was only partially aware of Lucas sidling up beside her, of his arm hooking around her waist and pulling her closer, of his nose nuzzling her neck. She may have been dreaming, for all she knew. But the warmth he provided, real or not, was very tangible. She folded into it, let it ward off the shivers that wracked her body as the night grew colder.

Her dreams were filled with Lucas and, much to her surprise and – dare she acknowledge it? – excitement, sex. She writhed and moaned in her sleep, whimpering with need. It was a miracle that she didn't elicit some reaction from Lucas during the night.

"Good morning." Lucas's breath, warm against her ear, sent a pleasurable shiver down her spine, no doubt because she was still half asleep. "I hope you had…_good_ dreams."

In her stupor, Skye nodded, snuggled further into him, eyes fluttering close once again to ward off the early morning light. Her ankle, miraculously, hardly throbbed as she shifted against Lucas. His lips brushed the back of her neck, sent another shiver coursing through her. She smiled in her sleep.

"How long will I have to wait?"

Skye moved again. "For what?" she murmured, her voice hardly audible.

"For you to give in?"

Her eyes snapped open, her body tensing in Lucas's arms. He tightened his grasp around her, kept her from disentangling herself. She stilled, realizing the struggle was fruitless until Lucas either relinquished her or she caught him in a moment of surprise. The feel of his breath stirring the hairs on her cheek sent the butterflies in her stomach reeling.

"I'm not a patient man," Lucas continued, his voice low. "I can't wait forever."

"You'll have to," Skye managed to say, her voice wavering.

His chuckling rumbled through her back. "You're so stubborn, Bucket. Is that from your mother or your father?"

Skye rolled away from him, nearly rolled into the fire. Getting to her feet, she brushed her clothes off, her brow furrowed. Her eyes flashed. "Don't talk about my parents."

Lucas turned onto his back, sighed, passed a hand over his face. Skye watched him massage an eyebrow, the desire quickly fading from his eyes. After a moment, he stood up, ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

By the water's edge, Skye splashed water on her face, hoping to distract herself once again from the excitement she felt in response to Lucas's advances. Lucas flanked her side, mimicked the action. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, saw his gaze lingering on her profile. Ducking her head, she hurried away, sat down on the stump. She nudged the ashes of the fire with her foot, drew patterns in it.

"I'll go get breakfast," Lucas muttered, voice clipped. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I thought you said I wasn't stupid," Skye retorted.

Lucas's eyebrows rose. Glancing over at Skye, his lips twitched into a smirk. "I did, didn't I?" He shook his head, unsheathed his knife. "That doesn't mean you aren't capable of doing something stupid, though."

Skye didn't have a response to that. Her eyes followed Lucas until he had disappeared into the trees, the dense foliage swallowing him up. She passed a hand over her face, fought to keep her mind focused on anything but the previous night's incident. Shivering, she tried to go through a list of everything not related to Lucas.

The gun. She stiffened, reached around the stump. Cold steel pressed into her fingertips. She let out a sigh of relief, pulled it out of the overgrown grass. Remembering how Lucas had wrapped himself around her on the stump the night before, she couldn't believe that he hadn't seen the gun. Then again, lust and desire had a way of keeping people from noticing even the most obvious things.

Skye stared down at the gun, wondered how she was going to conceal it now. If Lucas kept going at his advances, keeping it tucked beneath her waistband would be out of the question. She had been lucky that she had removed the gun from her pants the night before, else Lucas would have surely noticed it when his hands roamed her back and…_other_ regions.

The gun, though one of the small handguns, was still too big to conceal easily. Lucas had removed the vine he had used as a rope the night before, as he always did, and had left it by the fire. Skye picked it up, tried to rip a section off. The vine, thick and unyielding, didn't so much as split. Skye glanced around, seized a rock that Lucas had used to ring around the fire. One of the edges was a bit sharper than the rest. Chafing the vine against the rock, her eyes darted around furtively, trying to gauge when and where Lucas would return.

The vine snapped, green juices staining the rock and her fingers. Tossing the rock aside, Skye pulled up the leg of her pants, strapped the gun to her uninjured leg. Replacing the jeans over the gun, she noticed that despite the fact the jeans were flared boot-cut ones, the gun was still large enough to make a distinct outline through the fabric. Skye frowned, stood up, tried to see if the pants fit better that way. The fabric lay loosely against the gun, concealing it for the most part.

_I'll just have to make sure Lucas doesn't look at my feet_, she noted, passing a trembling hand over her face. It wouldn't be that hard, not when he was focused elsewhere.

"Fruit is all we have for right now," Lucas said, stepping through the foliage. His voice made Skye jump. Clenching her hands into fists to keep from betraying herself, she forced a frown.

"Just fruit?"

"It's better than eating grass." Lucas tossed one of the fruits over to her.

The fruit tasted strangely bitter to Skye as she forced it down, despite the fact that it was the same kind as the one she had eaten yesterday. The gun pressed into her good ankle, made it throb duly. Forcing a smile, Skye managed to get the rest of the fruit down, her eyes darting occasionally to bottom of her pants.

"How much further until we get to the Badlands?" she asked, the silence threatening to kill her.

Lucas glanced up at the sky. "One day, two at most. It all depends on whether or not we take more _detours_…"

The way the word rolled off his tongue made Skye shiver. She tore her gaze away from his smoldering eyes*, glanced down at the ground. The last of the fruit almost lodged itself into her throat. Would they take more 'detours'? From the look on Lucas's face, Skye was sure they would. The only thing she truly had to worry about was how long she'd be able to withstand his advances. She had barely lasted the night before. No matter how many times she thought about the look of horror on Commander Taylor's face, she couldn't keep her resolve from deteriorating. Soon, the image wouldn't do her much good, and she wouldn't have anything left to keep herself from not giving in to temptation.

Lucas picked up the vine, began to wrap it around his shoulder. His eyes lingered on the crudely severed end. Skye bit her lip, felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her face. Lucas continued on, his eyes unreadable. Wiping his knife on his pants, he tucked the weapon into its proper place beneath his belt, swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. His gaze met Skye's.

"Come on, Bucket," he finally said, reaching out for her hand. "We need to get moving."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Skye let Lucas take her hand. His fingers were oddly comforting linked through hers. Though tempted to pull away, she found herself letting him lead her forward, any and all resistance crumbling. She found herself relishing the feel of his hand around hers. She shook her head repeatedly, trying to ignore the sensation.

"Do you think Taylor sent a search party out?" Skye heard herself asked. She blinked, surprised at her own question.

Lucas glanced at her, one eyebrow arched. "For you?" She could see the gears grinding behind his eyes. "Possibly. Most likely they've all turned back now. Why waste all their effort finding a Sixer spy when they should be rebuilding Terra Nova?"

Skye flinched, realized he was right. She swallowed thickly, fought back the angry retort that was liable to make Lucas hit her. Instead, another thought crossed her mind, had her speaking aloud. "What if Taylor's sent out a convoy to the Badlands?"

Lucas's head snapped around. "Why would he do that? He has no reason to head out there."

Skye shrugged, struggled to keep the ghost of a triumphant smirk off her face as she sensed a wave of anger and panic roll through Taylor's son. "You'd be surprised. If the soldiers said anything about it in Boylan's bar, Boylan would've told the Commander without thinking twice."

"Boylan was working for Mira – "

"But his loyalty," Skye cut him off, her voice sharp, "is ultimately with Terra Nova."

Lucas frowned, his mouth tightening into a thin line. The hate and anger had flared up in his eyes again, replacing everything else Skye had seen in the past twenty-four hours. Lucas sighed, passed a hand over his face, massaged an eyebrow.

"Taylor probably has a convoy already headed out there," Skye continued, sensing a crack in Lucas's shell. "At the rate we're going, he'll get there before we do. He might be there already – "

"_HE'S NOT A GOD!_" Lucas's voice roared in her ears, made Skye jump. His hand tightened around hers with an iron grip, his fingernails biting into her skin. The fury made the chords in his neck taut, made his eyes blaze.

Skye felt something akin to regret pain in her chest – not so much for eliciting a reaction that could cost her life, but more so for the look of rage and helplessness in Lucas's eyes. His breath came out ragged, his whole body trembling with his anger. Skye watched as he struggled to rein himself in, as he struggled to calm down. His hand came up, seized her by the neck, pulled her close. Forehead pressing into hers, his eyes met hers, hard and unyielding.

"Bucket," he whispered, his voice as dagger sharp as his eyes, "don't talk about my father like that again."

She nodded, saw the anger slowly dissipate from Lucas's face. His eyes fluttered close, his breath quickly returning to its regular rhythm again.

He leaned forward suddenly, pressed his lips hard against hers. She had little time to react as he shoved his tongue into her mouth. She felt his teeth cut the inside of her lip. He pulled away as suddenly as he had started, licked his lips, stepped aside.

"We're wasting time," he said, voice husky, yet gruff. He tugged on her hand, forced her along.

Skye gently probed the cut with her tongue, tasted a thin trickle of blood. Her lips tingled with the ferocity of the harsh kiss. She decided not to anger him again. She could only imagine how rough and personal he'd get the next time.

The thought both excited and unsettled her.

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><p>* Lol, I just thought of the movie <em>Tangled<em> when I wrote that. Yes, Lucas, bring on the smolder! xP


	19. The Worst Thing

**A/N:** So, so, _SO_ sorry for the late update. I went to bed last night with a terrible headache bordering on a migraine, and then I was obliged to spend some quality time with my little brother today because he's so insistent – and he threatened to smash my laptop to smithereens if I didn't…don't worry, he's actually an adorable kid – he just can be violent. Must be all those video games…

I found three new Lucas/Skye videos on Youtube! They're fantastic!

youtube(.)com/watch?v=H33zZllSfXA

youtube(.)com/watch?v=mUsI3WMhrwg

youtube(.)com/watch?v=mIRAYYwfkDE

**Cherryy01** gave an interesting link in her review. It's a Facebook page supporting the Lucas/Skye pairing. Whoa! Here's the link: facebook(.)com/pages/I-Proudly-Support-LucasxSkye/337680129576160. Check it out, yes?

**Anjelia** also provided an interesting link in her most recent review. Please vote for Lucas/Skye on Fanpop: fanpop(.)com/spots/terra-nova/picks/results/858755/favorite-ship

**L'Amaryllis**, in answer to your question, I have _no_ idea what it is about psychopaths that make them so sexy. But I know what you mean. xP

It seems that my fic has inspired another FF member, **Cazio**, to write her own Lucas/Skye fic called The Eye of the Needle. Check it out! It looks promising!

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><p>"Isn't it strange," Skye heard herself say after a few hours of intense silence, "that we've only been attacked once? Shouldn't there be more Slashers or Carnos in this area? Maybe some Nicoraptors?"<p>

Lucas nodded, though Skye was quick to notice his hand tightening around hers. "We've been lucky."

Skye's brow furrowed. "I thought geniuses don't believe in luck."

"They don't."

"Then why did you say that?"

Lucas passed a hand over his face, smearing the sheen of sweat on his forehead. He wouldn't meet her gaze. "Isn't that what you wanted to hear?"

Skye shook her head. "What're you _really_ thinking?"

He finally glanced at her, something akin to unease flickering in his pupils. "Statistically speaking, we should've already been attacked – twice."

"_Twice_?" Skye felt fear grip her heart. "But…we haven't even _seen_ any dinosaurs since the Nicoraptor attack."

Lucas nodded. "It means we're getting close."

"Getting close to what?"

"The Badlands." Lucas paused by the river, which had widened once again, its bottom dropping from less than a foot to two feet. "We need to get to the last waterfall."

Skye's brow furrowed again. "Another waterfall?"

"The river dries up a few klicks after it." He relinquished her hand, stooped to splash water on his face. "We have to reach it before nightfall."

Skye crouched down beside him, mimicked the action. The cool water trickled down her neck, soaked the upper hem of her tank top. She dipped the first one in the water again, wrapped it back around her head. "And if we don't?" she dared to ask.

Lucas shook his head. "Then we won't make it through the Badlands."

Skye paused. "What do you mean we won't make it?"

"We won't make it," Lucas repeated. Wiping his hands on his pants, he pulled Skye to her feet. "This way."

Her ankle protested, but Skye found it much easier to walk on than in the past few days. A strong sense of dread writhed in her stomach, made her glance around with a heightened sense of paranoia. Struggling to shake it off, she found herself focusing on the harsh kiss Lucas had given her earlier in the wake of his outburst. He had calmed down significantly after that, though he had gone eerily silent. She had watched his eyes take on a faraway look as they forged ahead.

Lucas seemed like he was going to do it again. The silence only made Skye's sudden paranoia worse. She glanced at him, hoped he would something. Something rustled in the bushes nearby, sent a shiver of unease darting down Skye's spine.

"What was your mother like?"

Lucas faltered in mid-stride, his eyes darting over to meet Skye's. "My mother?" he asked, the words rolling off his tongue in a low whisper. The distant look came into his eyes again. "She was everything my father wasn't – kind, supportive, understanding. She had this fiery personality; she was always keeping my father on his toes. She'd do things on purpose to annoy him, just to get him riled." A faint smile touched his lips at the thought. "But they never fought. Never. My mother was too good for that. No matter how much she played around with my father, she always knew how to soothe him. Same with me…"

Skye couldn't help but notice the similarities in her own parents. "Sounds like my parents," she heard herself say. "My mother changed, though, after my father died. Part of it was the fever, I know, but once she recovers, she'll never be the same."

"At least she didn't have to choose between you and your father," Lucas said, his voice hardening. "Then things would've _really_ changed."

Skye exhaled heavily. "You need to get off this."

"Get off what?" he asked, all innocent-like.

"Your father doesn't hate you."

"Yes he does." Lucas's eyes flashed. "You wouldn't know. I saw it in his eyes."

"Then you're blind." Skye's voice started to rise. "Whether you believe it or not, he _does_ love you. You should hear him talk about you."

Lucas faltered again. "He…talks about me?" It took him a moment to recover. "I can just imagine the things he's told Shannon. '_My son is a maniac_,' he'll say. '_I should've let him die in front of that firing squad in 2138_.'"

Skye sighed in frustration. Why she was even bothering with the subject was beyond her. "No, he doesn't say anything like that. You should've seen the look on his face when I shot you."

"Triumph, right? Relief?" Lucas grinned despite himself.

"I don't know how to describe it." Skye passed a hand over her face. "It was a mixture of regret and grief."

Lucas snorted. "And you're calling _me_ blind? My father wouldn't _ever_ look like that."

Skye fixed him with an unwavering gaze, her hand tightening on his to force him to look at her. "You know, you make it seem like you hate his guts, but you really don't. You just hate yourself."

His face contorted into a mask of rage, deep lines of anger etching themselves into his features. "What do you know? You're just a child!"

"That's right!" she snapped, her voice harsh. "But that doesn't mean I don't understand! I kinda had to grow up after my parents got sick. I'm like you – my childhood was taken away from me." Her lips twisted into a snarl. "So don't tell me that I don't understand!"

She may have well slapped him across the face. He blinked, fought to find a response. Skye could see that he was struggling to comprehend, as if his genius mind had suddenly shut down on him, leaving as helpless and incapable of anything as Skye felt herself. She yanked her hand out of his, rubbed her temples as she limped away from him. Frustration and anger coiled in her chest, reared their ugly heads until she could barely control herself. She wanted to kick and scream and cry. If she didn't know better, she'd think she was PMSing.

"Why would you even want him dead?" she yelled, her voice growing hoarse. "You've already lost your mother! Isn't that enough death for you? If you kill Taylor, you'll have nothing! He's all that you have left of your family, and you want to destroy that?" Tears threatened to push over her eyelids. "My father did his fair share of things that made me hate him, but I never wanted him dead. And when he _did_ die, it was the worst thing in the world!"

Lucas found his voice. "You still have your mother."

"And what happens if Dr. Shannon and Malcolm can't create an antidote?" Skye's face had turned red, the chords in her neck taut. Her whole body shook in the same way that Lucas's had earlier that same morning. "If she dies, then I have nobody! That's the _worst_ thing that can happen to anybody." She jabbed her finger into his chest. "Even for you!"

The rage and grief in her voice must have struck a chord in Lucas's heart – assuming that he had one. He passed a hand over his face, massaged an eyebrow nervously. He flinched as Skye's voice rose with every word, took a step backward in surprise when her finger jabbed his tender chest. The force behind it would've toppled him if he hadn't been paying attention.

"You'll still have me," he said after a moment.

Skye whirled back around to face him, her eyes flashing. "Shut up! You didn't hear a single word I said, did you?" She seized him by the front of the shirt, surprised even herself with the action. "If you try to kill Commander Taylor again," she hissed, "I _swear_ I will kill you – for real this time."

Lucas's gaze hardened. "_You're_ threatening _me_, Bucket? I'm the one you should be scared of. You might not even be around when – "

_THUD, CRACK._

Skye's eyes widened, her breath hitching in her throat. "Carno," she whispered, her hand tightening on Lucas's shirt in fear. The anger in her face disappeared in an instant. Lucas slowly turned around, his arms reaching back to keep Skye behind him.

The Carno stared them down with its beady eyes, bloodlust swirling in its gaze. It took deep breaths, tasted their fear in the air.

Skye's breath stilled in her chest, made her tense against Lucas's back. She was surprised to feel him taking steady breaths, his chest rising and falling with ease unlike her own. She struggled to breathe, tried to remember what she learned in survival training. Of course, the course hadn't spoken much about Carnos, not when colonists were supposed to safe inside the gates of Terra Nova.

The gun pressed into her ankle suddenly, as if to remind her of its presence. She stared down at the bottom of her jeans, saw the faint outline of the gun through the denim fabric.

"We have to run," Lucas muttered, taking a step back, forcing Skye to do the same. "My knife isn't going to do anything."

"We can't run." Skye's eyes darted to the Carno, widened as it took a step forward. The ground trembled beneath her feet in response to its massive footfall. "It'll chase us down."

"Not if we reach the rapids."

"I can barely walk," Skye hissed. She swallowed thickly. "How am I supposed to run?"

She heard Lucas curse violently beneath his breath. He took another cautious step back, still keeping himself between Skye and the Carno. The carnivore tracked his movements with its head. Its mouth opened, revealing glistening dagger teeth. Saliva trickled over its scaly skin, dripped to the forest floor.

"It'll have to cross the river to reach us," Lucas pointed out. "We'll have a good head start."

"I can't _run_!"

The Carno snorted, raised itself up. Skye stiffened, stooped to feel for the gun. Hitching her pants up, she touched the cold metal, wrapped her fingers around the grip.

"The river isn't that wide, and it's not deep enough," she heard herself say. "He can hop over it without breaking a sweat."

"It's still worth a shot." Lucas took another step back.

_CRACK_.

The fallen branch snapped beneath his boot. The Carno jerked its head up, let out a deep-throated roar.

"Fuck!" Lucas seized Skye by the elbow. "_RUN!_"

Skye didn't have time to yank the gun out. The Carno stormed through the river, the ground quaking beneath its tread. Ankle screaming, Skye struggled to keep up with Lucas. His fingers crushed hers as they fled, tried to keep a strong grip on her. Crashing through foliage, Lucas made a sudden jerk to the left. Skye stumbled after him, dared to look over her shoulder.

The Carno kept right on them. Another earsplitting roar ripped from its throat. Skye's heart stuttered in her chest. Her shoulder slammed into a thin, growing tree, sent white-hot pain exploding through her. Lucas's grip on her hand loosened, jarred by the impact. She made to seize his fingers tighter, found her palms too sweaty to hold on properly.

Trees crumbled in their wake, toppled by the enormous dinosaur. A third roar shook the area, made a small nest of pterosaurs flee in a panic. Their leathery wings flapped erratically above the humans' heads, their shrieks elevating their fear.

Lungs screaming for air, Skye tried to leap over a fallen tree. Her bad ankle caught on a branch. A scream seared her throat. Her hand ripped away from Lucas's. She slammed into the ground, kicked up a whirl of dust. Coughing and gagging, struggling to see, she flipped onto her back, scrambled for the gun. Her fingers touched cold steel again, wrapped around the grip for a second time.

The Carno loomed before her, sped towards her.

She yanked. The gun wouldn't give. She grabbed it with both hands, tugged. The vine refused to let it free. Her fingers scratched at the plant, tried to saw through it. Blood mingled with the green stains on her fingertips.

Lucas skidded to a stop, realized Skye wasn't with him anymore. He turned, saw the Carno closing in on her. "_SKYE!_"

The gun came free. Skye yanked it up, pulled the trigger. The blast knocked her back against the ground, made her skull crack against the dirt.

The Carno reeled, a strangled yelp escaping its throat. Skye fired again, her eyes squeezed shut as the dust blotted her vision. The Carno staggered, let out a roar. Like the Nicoraptor, it fled, its huge footsteps shaking the ground beneath Skye. She gasped, dropped the gun in relief. Hands shaking, she leaned her head back, tried to rub the grit from her eyes. Throat coated with dust, she coughed, struggled to breathe properly.

Lucas rushed over to her, dropped down at her side. His hands cupped her face. "Are you alright?" he asked. Skye looked up, felt her breath hitch in her chest as she saw the fear in his eyes.

"I think so," she managed to say between gasps for air. She shifted, felt pain explode through her ankle. Falling back, she screwed her eyes shut, winced. Her head pounded, made her vision swim. "My ankle."

Lucas glanced over, his eyes settling first on her ankle, then on the fallen gun. He reached out, picked it up. The fear dissipated to disbelief.

"You found the gun?" His voice shook. "How long have you had this?"

"Since yesterday."

"You found it, and you didn't tell me?" Eyes flashing, Lucas seized her by the hair, forced her to look at him. "After all I've done for you, you were planning to kill me, weren't you?"

She shook her head, tears of pain pricking her eyes. She reached up, tried to get him to relinquish his grip on her hair. "I didn't know what to do with it."

"You could've given it to me!" His hand tightened in response to her efforts. "What the _FUCK_ were you planning on doing with this?"

Skye shook her head again. "I don't know," she gasped.

Lucas's lips twisted into a snarl. "Liar! You're just like my father!"

"I'm not lying," she cried. "You kidnapped me! What did you expect me to do? I had to have some kind of weapon to protect myself!" Her fingernails dug into his wrist in desperation, dug into his flesh to make him let go. "If I wanted to kill you, I would've done it when I found the gun!"

Lucas pulled back, let her go. Her head thudded against the ground again, sent pain through her skull. She cried out, the tears of pain finally rolling down her face. Between her ankle and head, she could barely keep the nausea down. It pushed at the base of her throat, threatened to choke her. Lucas's arm reached back, his eyes flashing. Skye held her hands up, waited for the slap.

It never came.

Growling, Lucas stood up, stormed over to the nearest tree. His fist slammed into the bark. Blood flowed from split knuckles, dribbled off his fingers. Skye tried to breathe a sigh of relief, found herself tensing instead as another wave of pain overcame her. She pushed herself into a sitting position. The world wheeled around her, a mass of brown and green color.

The nausea was too great. Jerking to her side, she vomited up breakfast. Her whole body shook, dry heaves overcoming her even when she had nothing left to throw up.

She felt Lucas come to her side, felt his hands pull back her hair to keep vomit from getting in it. He attempted to console her through words, but his inexperience kept him from doing any good that way. Skye focused instead on the sound of his voice, hoped that it would help her regain control of herself.

When the heaves subsided, Lucas hefted her in his arms, the gun safely tucked against the small of his back. He pushed her hair out of her face, met her gaze. Skye's brow furrowed. The anger and rage had disappeared, replaced only with concern. Stepping around the puddle of vomit, Lucas returned to the river. Surprisingly, the slow ease of his steps lulled Skye. She felt sleep taking over as the adrenaline drained away.

"What if I have a concussion?" she heard herself say, her throat scratching painfully.

"You don't have a concussion," Lucas assured her. "Does the light hurt your eyes?"

Skye forced an eye open, gazed around. She shook her head, found the action aggravated the pain in her head. "No," she whispered hoarsely.

"Then you're fine." Lucas sat her down by the water, splashed water onto her face to wipe away remnants of the vomit. She watched him through half-lidded eyes.

"We'll never make it to the waterfall."

Lucas shook his head. "We're closer than you think." Drying her face with his shirt, he hefted her up into his arms again.

As she felt herself drifting off into unconsciousness, she heard Lucas ask a question. It took her a moment to register his distant words.

"Why didn't you kill me when you found the gun?"

She swallowed thickly, let her eyes flutter shut. "I don't know."

* * *

><p>P.S. To make up for my late update, I made this chapter longer than normal! Yay!<p>

P.P.S. I just realized that the gun Skye used to shoot Lucas with wasn't a sonic. Unfortunately for me, I made the mistake of saying it was a sonic to make Lucas's not-so-deep bullet wounds plausible. Oh well. Please bear with me on that minute detail. Grr!


	20. Equation Reconciled

**A/N: **I just realized that this fanfic will be coming to a close soon. I'm hoping to finish it before I go back to school on January 9th, else my updates will go from one a day to once or twice a week – and we don't want that, do we? Obviously not, what with the way you all were vying for an update yesterday. Again, my apologies. :)

**JJ Alice Heart**, in response to your suggestion, don't worry, I'm not taking it the wrong way. I love hearing your guys' ideas, even if they're not where the story is actually going to go. Lol. As for Lucas's psychopathic side, we'll see what happens to him. Because, let's face it, Lucas isn't Lucas without his psychopathic side.

Though it isn't Lucas/Skye, I found a beautiful _Terra Nova_ tribute: youtube(.)com/watch?v=zH4jAVT_cS0

* * *

><p>A distant thundering brought Skye to her senses. Shifting, she became aware of the crackle of a fire, became aware of grass cushioning her body. Cracking open an eye, she saw the blue sky turning to gray, darkness quickly following the color change. Nightfall was no doubt in less than thirty minutes, if that.<p>

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Skye dared to move her head and look around. The sleep had done her well – all the pain in her head had disappeared, though a dull ache had replaced it. She groaned as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Only her ankle still throbbed, but the pain had deadened, most likely due to the shirt soaked in cold water that was wrapped around it. Though close to the fire, the source of warmth Skye felt came not from the darting flames but from the long-sleeve shirt wrapped around her. Lucas's musky scent tickled her nose.

Lucas.

Skye glanced over the fire, met Lucas's gaze. Stripped to the waist, he reminded Skye of a human statue. The flickering fire cast shadows over his chiseled features, made his spring grass green eyes dance. The hint of a smile touched his lips.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

Skye nodded, the tension in her neck keeping her from moving much. The thundering still persisted, dull but present. "Did we make it to the falls?"

It was Lucas's turn to nod. "I told you it wasn't that far."

The sheen of sweat coating his forehead and chest begged to differ. Skye suppressed pointing it out, her own thoughts directed at trying to figure out how far Lucas had carried her to this spot. The steady lap of water echoed in her ears. Glancing over her shoulder, she realized that the river still ran strong, though a huge pool similar to the one from before accepted the heavy froth of the huge waterfall pushing over the edge of the cliff. Even in the waning light, Skye could tell it was much larger than the previous waterfall. Jagged rocks met the crashing waterfall – a horrific death that Skye was glad neither of them had experienced.

"I'm hungry," Skye muttered, her throat scratching her words. Breathing hurt, made her irritated throat chafe raw.

Lucas tossed over a fruit. It was one of the ones Skye had grown familiar with at the Terra Nova market, much to her relief. Though the other exotic fruit had been tasty, she wasn't keen on ingesting something that she had vomited up. The color of the fruit didn't bode well with her as the thought threatened to become her center of attention.

Focusing on the fruit, she ate slowly, hoping her weakened stomach wouldn't protest. It didn't. Instead, it yearned for more, threatening to eat itself if it didn't get more food. The thick juices of the fruit soothed her throat, made it easier for her to breathe. Lucas watched her in silence as she took her time eating, his eyes never leaving her face. When the last of the fruit slid down her throat, Skye felt ten times better, the natural sugar from the fruit pumping quickly into her system. Leaning over, she dipped her hands into the river, splashed water on her face, drank some greedily. The lingering taste of vomit washed away with it.

"I feel disgusting," Skye muttered, more to herself than to Lucas.

"There's still enough light." Lucas met her gaze through the flames again. "The river's right there. Use it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Not with you sitting right there!"

Lucas held his hands up, a smirk touching his lips. "I promise I won't look or do anything."

"The same way you promised to take me back to Terra Nova after I fixed you?" Her voice was unnecessarily harsh, the words biting. The hoarseness of her voice only made it worse.

Something flickered in Lucas's eyes. "For real this time." To prove his point, he stood up, sat back down with his back facing the river and the pool.

Biting her lip, Skye glanced at the water. She didn't trust Lucas, but the idea of taking a bath – or something close to that – was tantalizing. Her eyes darting over to Lucas's turned back, she shimmied out of her clothes, leaving only her bra and underwear on.

Skye gasped as the freezing water hit her exposed skin. Forcing herself further into the river, she floundered into the slow-moving pool of water near the waterfall, though she was careful to keep away from the thundering cascade of water. Shivers wracked her body, tinged her lips purple-blue, but she forced herself onward. She could already feel the water cleansing away all the dirt and grime that coated her skin, even though she had been in the water the day before.

She slipped under the water, ran her hands through her hair in an attempt to get rid of the collected dirt in her scalp. A sharp bite of pain wormed through her skull as her fingers found the tender spot on the back of her head. Surfacing for air, she gently massaged the aching skin, hoped that she truly didn't have a concussion. She didn't realize she could worry about it so much.

The sunlight quickly faded. The crackling fire, distant on the far river bank, was the only source of light. Skye could barely see her hand in front of her face.

The water lapped at her back, played with her hair. Arms seized her from behind, pulled her close. She cried out, tried to thrash against her attacker. Stubble tickled her ear.

"It's just me," Lucas murmured, his breath caressing her cheek.

Skye's brow furrowed, though a hint of a smile touched her face. "Liar! You said you wouldn't do anything!"

His chuckle rumbled through her. "I couldn't help myself." His lips pressed against the sensitive spot on her neck. "Can you?" he asked, lips stretching into a smirk against her skin as Skye's head leaned back in response.

"Lucas." Her voice wavered. "This – this isn't right."

His fingers traced down her bare stomach. "Who says?"

Skye struggled to find a response, her attention straying to the path of Lucas's fingers. The cold of the water disappeared, replaced by the warmth of his body pressing into hers. His fingers slipped beneath her underwear, roamed over the sensitive skin until he found what he was looking for. Skye's body went rigid beneath his touch, her breath hitching in her throat.

"That's what I thought," Lucas murmured. His lips brushed the skin behind her ear, his fingers busily working her clit.

Skye gasped as he plunged one finger into her. The feel of something so foreign inside her sent a thrill down her spine, made her heart trip inside her chest. The butterflies in her stomach went haywire. Lucas slid his finger deeper into her, worked a second finger inside her. A low moan slipped past Skye's throat.

"I don't – I can't…" Her eyes fluttered close, another moan overshadowing her weak protests. "Taylor will…"

Lucas shook his head, his other hand roaming up to her chest. "Taylor won't do anything. He's not here." His hand slipped up beneath the underwire of her bra, traced her tightened nipple. "It's just you and me."

A shiver wracked Skye's body, settled between her legs as Lucas worked her more insistently. His other hand palmed her breast, squeezed. She gasped again, her body molding into his as the sensations threatened to overwhelm her. All conscious thought melted away, replaced only with the desire for more.

Lucas circled around to face her, his lips hovering just over hers. A whimper slipped unbidden past her lips, came from deep within her chest. Craning her head, she tried to reach his lips. He pulled back, teased her. A third finger slipped inside her, scissoring her open. Skye gasped, eyes widening. Smirking, Lucas slowly led her back to the riverbank, pulled her by her crotch onto the dry ground. The night air nipped their exposed skin, sent shivers rolling through both of them.

"Lucas," Skye managed to say, panting as his thumb rubbed over her clit. "You aren't – I mean, I'm not – _fuck_," she moaned, Lucas's fingers plunging deeper into her. "You tried to hit me earlier."

"But I didn't."

The clasp of her bra came undone beneath Lucas's touch. He shimmied it off of her despite another volley of weakening protests. Her exposed nipples, cold enough from the water, stiffened further as the night air washed over them. Lucas's warm breath rolled over her flesh, made goosebumps prickle across her skin. His tongue darted out, flicked over one of her nipples. Skye's eyes fluttered shut again, threatened to roll back into her head as Lucas took her nipple between his teeth and sucked.

His free hand roamed over her body, touching, feeling, squeezing. His fingers ran up the inside of her thighs, made her shiver even more despite the hand that was already massaging her lower lips. Lucas hooked his fingers through the edge of the underwear, drew them down. Skye felt her hips lifting to allow him to pull them off.

She shook her head. "You're a sick bastard," she managed to say, her voice even weaker than before. "You're – you're a psycho!"

Lucas nodded. "I can be nice, though." Trailing kisses up to her neck, he hovered over her mouth, his eyes staring into hers. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky.

Skye tried to conjure up Taylor's face, tried to remember Josh smashing Lucas's head in with the serving tray. The images rose up in her mind, blurred and distorted. She struggled to focus on the betrayal in Taylor's eyes. They wavered before her, failed to do what she had hoped. The memory left her in an instant.

And she had nothing left to truly resist Lucas – not him threatening her mother, because he _hadn't_ killed her; not the deaths of the 26 colonists, because Lucas _hadn't_ been the one to pull the trigger; not him stabbing his father, because he was confused and disillusioned; not Lieutenant Washington's death, because she had purposely provoked him, hoping for him to kill her.

The realization filled Skye's stomach with dread, but everything else overpowered that.

She felt Lucas's erection against her thigh. A shiver of excitement rolled through her, made her breath hitch in her throat again. She opened her eyes, met Lucas's gaze. His lips gently brushed over hers, sent another shiver rolling through her.

"Tell me you want me," he whispered, the same as he had the night before. His fingers stopped moving within her, everything stilling but the rush of blood in Skye's head and her ragged breathing.

"I want you," she cried, startled by her own words. "_Now_."

She saw the excitement and triumph in Lucas's eyes before he crushed his lips against hers. His tongue pushed into her mouth, battled with hers for dominance, for control. Her arms flung around his neck, pulled him closer as the passion threatened to sweep Skye away. It was as if her mind had been seared clean, with only the thought of the moment remaining. She struggled to digest all the sensations at once, to understand what her body was telling her.

Her hands slid down Lucas's chest, feeling every muscle, every scar, every rib. Her fingers lingered over the healing wounds she had inflicted on him only a few days prior, but not for long. The ripple of the muscles of his stomach sent a thrill through her as her hands continued to wander over his skin. Her fingers touched the elastic band of his boxers.

Lucas pulled out of the kiss, stared at her. The smile had faded, his eyes inflamed with need and desire rather than mirth and amusement. His gaze kept her riveted as his hand folded over hers, guided her down beneath the fabric. Heat radiated to her fingers as he helped her tug the boxers off. His erection, free from its restraints, bobbed in the air. Skye dared to glance at it, felt all the breath leave her chest. Tossing the underwear aside, Lucas found her hand again, his eyes still on hers. She forced her eyes to meet his again, found the burning desire there almost too great to handle. He guided her down again, gently wrapped her hand around his shaft.

Skye was startled by the weight and thickness of him. Another thrill shot down her spine unbidden. Her conscience fought to keep control as Lucas gripped her hand around him tighter, as he began to pump. The flesh yielded slightly beneath Skye's touch. Though hesitant, she continued moving her hand up and down his length even as his hand fell away, his eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overcame him.

It was amazing the way the genius became utterly helpless beneath Skye's touch. She watched the pleasure flicker across his face. His hand suddenly stopped her, his eyes snapping open. His body trembled, his breath as erratic as Skye's had been not too long before. He stared into her eyes, repositioned himself above her. His lips pressed against hers, feverish, insistent.

"Wait," Skye gasped, fear suddenly seizing her heart. "I've never…done this before."

Lucas met her gaze again, pulled back just enough so she could catch her breath. She wondered if he could see the anxiety in her face. She felt like she was a little girl again, wanting her mother by her side to console her. Lucas brushed aside a few strands of hair out of her face, let his fingers trail down her cheek.

"I know what I'm doing," he finally whispered, gently brushing his lips against hers. "For the most part."

"For the most part?" Skye's eyes widened, though a chuckle of disbelief slipped past her lips.

He frowned. "You honestly don't think I've had much practice, do you?" He leaned down, pressed his lips against hers again, pushed his tongue against hers.

Her hands pushed against his chest. "I'm – I'm scared," she admitted, glancing away. "This isn't – "

He silenced her with a soft kiss. "Skye," he said, "there's nothing to be scared of."

"Yes there is." She forced her gaze back up to his. "You."

Lucas chuckled. "And yet here you are."

Biting her lip, Skye realized he was right. She could either accept it and try to enjoy it, or she could endure being raped. The latter wasn't even an option. She craned her head, pressed her lips to his. His nipped her lower lip, the smile fading once again as the desire washed over him. He brushed against her opening, sent a shiver running through her.

"Do it," she gasped between kisses, "before I change my mind."

The tiny voice of her conscience screamed at the back of her mind as Lucas cast one last glance at her and pushed himself into her. Skye gasped, hissed as pain exploded through her as her hymen broke away. Tears pricked her eyes. She squeezed them shut, grit her teeth against the pain. Lucas peppered kisses along her jaw, eased himself further into her until his entire length fit inside her. He pressed his lips against hers.

She whimpered, groaned as he pulled back and pushed into her again. He buried his face in her neck, grunted with each subsequent thrust. Skye swallowed thickly, kept her eyes squeezed shut as she struggled to deal with the pain. He thrust into her with excruciating slowness, as if purposely hurting her.

Suddenly, her breath hitched in her throat, and something changed. A low moan slipped past her lips. Lucas glanced up at her, slowed again, something akin to concern flickering in his pupils. Skye felt herself arched up to meet him, her hips pushing into his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers gripping his back.

Lucas kissed her hard, renewed his thrusting. Moans of pleasure soon replaced the whimpers of pain. Skye arched beneath him, gasped as his thrusting intensified. Her hips bucked, yearning for more. Gasps filled the night, drowned out the sound of the fire and the waterfall.

Skye felt her body tensing, felt as though she were on the edge of some deep precipice. Her breathing grew more and more ragged with each of Lucas's thrusts, her fingernails clawing into his skin. Lucas bit her neck in response, made her cry out. Her body arched beneath him, every muscle in her body taut. She threw her head back, ignored the pain that shot through her skull as the ground pressed into the tender spot in her scalp.

"_LUCAS!_" The scream of pleasure ripped from her throat. She shuddered, was nearly washed away by her climax.

His lips sought hers hurriedly, pressed hard against her mouth. He grunted, tore himself away, thrust with all his might. His back arched like Skye's, his whole body shaking above her as he peaked himself.

"_SKYE!_"

The night quieted, punctuated by their labored breathing. Lucas collapsed atop Skye, buried his face into her neck. Sweat glistened on their skin, flickered in the firelight. As Lucas grew limp inside her, he pressed his lips into her neck. Skye stared up at the stars looming above them, her eyes wide with disbelief. What had she just done?

She squeezed her eyes shut. _It's just a dream_, she told herself, but the lingering remnants of her climax begged to differ. Her conscience still screamed, becoming more and more audible with each passing minute.

Yet her body wanted more.

She swallowed thickly, passed a hand over her face, wiped away the sweat. As her breathing slowed and went back to normal, she felt Lucas shift against her. He lifted his head, pulled himself forward to look into her eyes better. His fingers brushed aside some hair, cupped her face. The look in his eye made Skye's heart trip in her chest. Pulling himself out of her, he rolled onto his back, drew her against him. Her head rested snugly against his shoulder, her forehead barely touching his stubbly chin.

She still couldn't believe it. She felt ashamed and enthralled, dirty and exhilarated. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before, but to think she had done it with Lucas Taylor! The thought made her head dizzy, though with horror or excitement, she wasn't sure.

"Why didn't you hit me?" she heard herself ask after a while.

"Why didn't you kill me?" Lucas turned his head, looked down at her. "I told you I wouldn't hurt you again."

The fluttering in her stomach unsettled Skye.

They dozed for a while, the night passing by slowly. When they woke, a tiny sliver of a moon hung above them in the sky. Lucas turned back to Skye, pressed his lips into hers. For the second time that night, Skye gave into him. As they climaxed again, they called out each others' names. Lucas practically screamed hers, so lost he was in his passion. It wasn't until the third time, in the _very_ early hours of the morning, that Skye realized the little voice in her head had disappeared.

The cold forced them to put their clothes back on, though they were loath to do so. Lucas fed more kindling to the fire before lying back down and drawing Skye to him again. She rested against him, let her eyes flutter close.

"Skye," he suddenly whispered, his voice strained. "I – I love you."

Her eyes snapped open, her mouth growing dry. "What?"

"I can…change," Lucas continued, his voice unsteady, "if you want me to. I don't want you to hate me forever."

Silence.

"Skye?"

She shook her head. "I don't think you can do it."

"I'll prove it to you." Lucas's arm around her tightened. "Just watch me."

"You do that," Skye muttered, letting her eyes flutter close once again. "Good luck."

Her dreams were filled with a changed Lucas and with a Commander Taylor that welcomed his son with open arms.

* * *

><p>P.S. Ugh, so OOC! *facepalm* I feel like I've betrayed them!<p>

P.P.S. I know, I know, this seems a bit premature, huh? But in reality, if they made it to the Badlands without something happening _before_ they got there, nothing would happen. Just trust me on this. Lol.


	21. Stumbled Upon

**A/N:** You guys have _no_ idea how awesome I felt after reading your supportive reviews! As much as I think that the characters went way too OOC for their development – thank you **KAZzieann** for your wonderful comment about their development, by the way, since I believe in the same exact thing – I'm glad you all thought it was all very plausible.

**NumberSixteen**, your writing is phenomenal as it is. It has your own style already in it, and that's the most any writer can ask for from themselves!

**Tellmamatobuggeroff**, yes I did know that Ashley Zuckerman is Australian and that his accent is so awesome – and that he is just _beyond_ sexy! Although, I must admit, when it comes to actors from Australia and New Zealand, Karl Urban takes precedence – oh my God, talk about sex on legs, and don't even get me started on _HIS_ accent! – followed by Hugh Jackman. Poor Ashley Zuckerman must suffice getting third in that ranking, lol.

**Unleash Your Inner Self**, ¿hablas español? Yo tambien – pues, un poquito, nada mas. A mi me gusta que te gustaba mi historia. (Ay, my gramática es terrible. *facepalm*)

**Ilovemyshipparings**, in answer to your question, he meant that he hasn't exactly had much sex because he's been way to obsessed with beating his father – not to mention he was hiding out in the forest/jungle for five years. Unless he was out there screwing dinosaurs, I don't think he was getting laid much. Roflmao.

**Royalshadow1**, my only response to what happened to you: roflmao. That would definitely be interesting. I'm…sorry? Your friend didn't read it, did he? That would've made it ten times more awkward. xP

**Bohnaheen**, happy birthday, then! I'm glad I gave you the best birthday present ever. Lol.

I just found another Lucas Taylor tribute with some Lucas/Skye undertones to it. It's absolutely a perfect character study of our favorite psychopathic genius. Lol. Check it out: youtube(.)com/watch?v=SrjCh88CKBk

I also found another Lucas/Skye video, only the song is in a different language, so I have no idea what it's saying. Lol. Check it out: youtube(.)com/watch?v=YToekAPDrJ8

* * *

><p>Skye thought she heard voices in her dreams – voices that didn't belong there, that is. Her brow furrowed as she struggled to decipher their muffled words, tried to discern the identity of the familiar speakers. It wasn't until she fought to lift herself out of sleep that she realized the voices weren't in her dreams – they were very real.<p>

Jerking her head up, she forced her eyes open, squeezed them shut as the morning light seared them. Rubbing her eyes, she tried again, found her vision was still blurry with sleep.

"Commander Taylor, you'll never guess what we just found."

Skye sat up suddenly, her breath hitching in her throat. She reached out, seized Lucas's shoulder. "Lucas," she hissed, still trying to blink away the fog in her mind. "Lucas, get up! They found us!"

Her chest constricted – though with anxiety or relief, she wasn't sure.

"Skye!" A figure loomed in front of her, grabbed her arms, pulled her to her feet. The blurriness in her vision cleared, revealed Mark Reynolds's concerned face. "You're safe now. We've got you." He smiled. "You're going back to Terra Nova."

Lucas was barely coming out of his stupor, a faint smile on his face, when the nearest soldiers seized him. He reacted in an instant. "Get your fucking hands off me!" He kicked, fought against them. His eyes darted to the bare space beside him. "Bucket? Skye?"

When he saw her, Skye couldn't help but notice the relief pass over his face, only to be quickly replaced by anger. He yanked against his restraints, struggled against the two male soldiers who had pinned his arms to his back. They ripped the gun out of his pants, stripped him of his knife. He freed one arm, elbowed the soldier behind him in the face. The man staggered, blood gushing from his battered nose. Lucas twisted around, swung his fist into the second soldier's face.

"Lucas!" Skye tried to yank herself out of Reynolds's grasp, was held back. "Behind you!"

He barely had a chance to look over his shoulder. Three soldiers tackled him to the ground, smashed his face into the dirt and grass. Skye watched, helpless, as they cuffed him, watched as Lucas's face turned red with fury and exertion. His yells jarred Skye's ears, made her wince as she was pulled away by Reynolds to the nearest empty rover. Lucas met her gaze. She couldn't hear him shout her name, though she saw his lips form the word.

Another rover pulled up from behind. Taylor's face appeared at the door, stared into Skye's face. She thought she saw something flicker in his crystal blue eyes, something akin to relief. Whatever it was, he quickly concealed it behind the familiar steel façade. He turned his attention to Reynolds.

"What happened?"

Reynolds shifted into an at ease position. "We were trying to find an easier way through the forest when Bosh thought he smelled smoke, sir. When we stopped, we saw Lucas and Skye lying there next to the remains of a fire. Bosh radioed you the moment we realized who they were, sir."

Taylor nodded curtly, cast one last glance in Skye's direction. Her eyes followed him as he wandered over to his son. She could only imagine the look of disgust and grief in his face. She could see the hate in Lucas's eyes, could see the rage shining in his eyes. She couldn't hear what Taylor said, but she saw Lucas spit in his face. Taylor twitched back, wiped his hand over his face. He said something to the soldiers, jerked his head back to one of the rovers. The soldiers dragged Lucas, kicking and cursing at the top of his lungs, to one of the rovers behind Skye. She watched him until he disappeared from view.

Commander Taylor brushed by the rover without so much as glancing at Skye. Her eyes followed him, too, until he stepped into one of the rovers and shouted, "We're heading back!"

He hadn't said a single word to her.

Reynolds relayed the message to the driver of the rover. The engine turned over easily, and the rover roared to life. Reynolds slammed the door shut just in time as the driver wheeled the vehicle around to follow Commander Taylor. Skye glanced through the slits in the doors, saw a huge convoy trailing in front and behind her. Her brow furrowed.

"What's going on?"

Reynolds glanced over at her. His eyes darted out the rover, over to Commander Taylor's vehicle. "We were heading to the Badlands."

Skye felt the breath leave her chest. "Why?"

Reynolds fidgeted, his hands playing with the strap of his weapon. "I can't say much."

She fixed him with a hard stare. "Mark, I've been out here for almost a week – and you're telling me you can't say much? It's bad enough that you just found me by accident! At least I know now that nobody went looking for me."

"That's not true. We sent out a search party the minute Taylor made it back to camp and told us that you had disappeared."

Skye passed a hand over her eyes. "Disappeared, huh?" Tears threatened to overwhelm her. Sure, Taylor had been wounded, but the Commander she knew would've gone after her the moment he realized she wasn't with him. He really _did_ hate her.

Reynolds must have sensed her sadness. He cleared his throat, dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "In one of the crates that Lucas was going to ship back to 2149, we found the prow of a Viking ship."

"So?"

He leaned closer, his voice dropping lower still. "It came from the Badlands – and it's from, like, the fourteenth century." He leaned back. "That's what Maddy thinks, anyway. If they had let her see it, she could've told them _exactly_ when it came from."

Skye nodded, noted sourly the look that crept into Reynolds's eyes at the mention of Maddy. Hadn't they had a relationship starting? What had happened since Skye had been kidnapped? The word made her tongue thick with disgust. She had been kidnapped, yes, but as she thought more about it, it no longer felt like a kidnapping. Not with what happened the night before. She was still sore; sitting actually hurt, made a dull ache throb in her nether regions. But she wouldn't wish it away for the world – because, from what she could tell, she'd never get another chance to be with Lucas. Her chest constricted at the thought.

"What happened to my search party?" she heard herself ask.

"They gave up after the second day." Reynolds had gone quiet, his eyes reflecting regret and sympathy. "Taylor pulled them for this convoy to the Badlands."

So Taylor had issued the stop of the search party. Skye suddenly found it difficult to swallow. Lucas had been right back in Boylan's bar – Taylor probably wouldn't forgive her…ever…

She forced her attention away from the negative thoughts. "Mark," she said, struggling to keep her voice steady, "this is a _huge_ convoy. Did Taylor pull _all_ the soldiers away from Terra Nova?"

Reynolds shook his head. "No, there's a small unit stationed back at the colony." His voice dropped again, his eyes darting towards Commander Taylor's rumbling vehicle. "He hasn't been himself since he got back. I don't know if it's from Lucas getting away again or if it's from Lieutenant Washington's death." Sadness flickered across his face.

Skye hadn't actually known Wash as well as she could have. They had occasionally talked, mostly about girl things – which was ironic, considering how un-girl-like the Lieutenant had been – but nothing really had connected them. Skye wished she could feel some kind of grief for the dead woman. And to think the man she had slept with the night before had killed her himself!

"Has – has the funeral already happened?"

Reynolds shook his head. "It's tomorrow."

Skye's frown deepened. "Taylor was going to miss it?"

He shrugged. "To be honest, nobody knows what's going on inside the Commander's head. I'm not saying he's lost it or anything, but some of the things he's doing aren't exactly normal for him."

The rover bounced over a rut. Skye jarred her ankle against the metal side of the vehicle, winced as pain exploded through it. Concern flickered across Reynolds's face.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Skye couldn't help but smile inwardly – Maddy had truly scored with the courteous, thoughtful, and considerate Mark Reynolds. A pang constricted Skye's chest as her thoughts immediately drifted to Lucas. He was going to get what he deserved. Five days ago, she would've relished the thought. Now, though, it sent a wave of dread rolling through her.

"Are you alright?" Mark repeated, inching forward on his seat to meet her faraway gaze.

Skye shook her head. "I sprained my ankle."

"May I?" Skye nodded, let him pick up her leg and examine the swollen flesh. "When did you sprain it?"

"The day after the Commander was stabbed." She winced again as Reynolds's fingers gently probed the injury.

"Sorry," he murmured, grimacing in sympathy. "We'll have Dr. Shannon look at it right away." He gently propped her foot up on the nearby seat. "The Commander will want to debrief you afterwards."

_Debrief me?_ Skye leaned back in her seat, squeezed her eyes shut. At least it would force Taylor to talk to her, even if it was only an interrogation. Unless, of course, he had somebody else do it – like Reynolds or Riley. Taylor might even give Curran the job if he was that loath to talk to her.

"What about Lucas?"

Reynolds glanced over to her, something akin to confusion flashing in his eyes. "He'll be sent to the brig and kept under strict security."

Skye nodded. Of course. Taylor would want to get as much information out of his son as possible, perhaps try to figure out how to gain some closure from him. It would be Lucas's chance to prove to Skye that he had changed. The thought, however, didn't bode well with her. Taylor wouldn't banish Lucas as he had done before. It would only put them back to square one.

So Lucas would probably stay in the brig forever to rot away the rest of his life.

They bounced and rocked through the foliage. The falls thundered nearby, eliciting memories of Lucas's hands roaming her body in the water, of his warm breath tickling her cheek. Skye shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the metal pressing into her sore body. She felt the lingering remnants of feather-soft kisses gracing her skin, of myriad sensations overwhelming her as Lucas had sex with her. As she sat there, trying to remember and forget the previous night's events simultaneously, she realized that the first time had been sex, but the rest had been lovemaking.

The thought unsettled her even more so than the fact that Taylor was never going to forgive her.

"We'll be back to the colony before nightfall," Reynolds told her, jolting her from her thoughts. He met her gaze, fidgeted with the strap of his weapon again. "What was it like? Being held captive by Lucas, I mean."

Skye bit her lip. She rolled her head back again, let her eyes flutter close. "Not what I expected."

* * *

><p>P.S. Hahahaha, and you all thought they would make it to the Badlands! Nah, I had no idea what was out there, so I figured I couldn't come up with something plausible to explain the ancient Viking ship – or whatever it was. Not to mention that I was missing Commander Taylor! (This was planned all along, by the way, which is why I needed Lucas and Skye to have sex before they only had a day until they were to the Badlands – else, like I said, it wouldn't have happened at all.)<p> 


	22. Alive and Intact

**A/N:** For all of you so concerned, nothing happened between Mark and Maddy. The look on Mark's face was one of admiration and happiness, not of anything else. Considering how he was making out with Maddy in the aftermath of the attack – I laughed so hard when Jim stumbled upon them – I didn't expect anything to happen between them. So don't worry – they're still together! Why would I break up such a beautiful, adorable couple? I mean, really? I'm not _that_ cruel. ;D

By the way, it was pointed out to me by **teflongrl** that the prow of the ship discovered in the Badlands was an 18th century ship, not a 14th century Viking ship. (Thank you for correcting me, **teflongrl**. I really appreciate it!) *facepalm* I swear, the details sometimes blur when I'm sitting there writing on very little sleep. Please ignore my little mistake, which I hope to either fix later or never reference again in the hopes of keeping myself from making an idiot of myself – again. Roflmao.

**Lady Psycho 92**, yes, yes I am. Muhahahahahahahaha! xP

**Woflielovessilently**, yes, Karl Urban definitely is hot and sexy. If I were older and he wasn't married with kids…rawr. I absolutely love him as well. I wish I could get more of him!

Please check out **Birgitta Snyder**'s Lucas/Skye fanfic _If I Can't Have You_! It's really good!

Another Lucas/Skye video on Youtube! Check it out: youtube(.)com/watch?v=C8YI57dBCv4

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><p>The look of excitement and disbelief in Dr. Shannon's face almost made Skye forget about what had transpired. Almost. Reynolds helped her onto one of the beds. Dr. Shannon flitted around him, brought up Skye's stats.<p>

"We never thought we'd see you again," she said. Her face stretched into a soft smile.

"We?" Skye dared to ask, though she knew the answer.

"All of us – Josh, especially." Dr. Shannon zeroed in on Skye's sprained ankle, began assessing the damage. "Jim, too. He was particularly worried."

_Mr. Shannon?_ Skye's brow furrowed. He had been just as horrified as the Commander when he had found out that she was traitor. Why would he be worried? Why hadn't _Taylor_ been worried?

"Have you walked on this foot at all?"

Skye snapped herself out of her thoughts. She nodded. "A bit."

Dr. Shannon's dark eyes met hers, one eyebrow arched in disbelief. "Skye."

"Okay, I walked on it a lot." Skye passed a hand over her face. "I didn't have much of a choice."

Regret and sympathy flickered across the doctor's face. She managed another soft smile, focused her attention back to the injured foot. "But you're back home, safe and sound."

Skye nodded. "How's my mother?" she dared to ask, her voice wavering slightly.

"She's seen better days," Dr. Shannon admitted, carefully choosing her words, "but Malcolm and I have almost created a cure from the powder Curran brought back from the Sixer camp."

They were words Skye did and didn't want to hear. Then again, she had only been gone for roughly five days, maybe six. As much of a medical genius both Dr. Shannon and Malcolm were when put together, they weren't miracle workers. It had taken five years for Lucas, a true genius, to make the portal go both ways. How could Skye expect Dr. Shannon and Malcolm to create a cure in five days?

"You're very lucky," Dr. Shannon suddenly said as she waved an assistant over. "Can you get me some wrappings? Thank you."

Skye's thoughts drifted back to the sensation of Lucas hovering above her, of Lucas inside her. "How?"

Dr. Shannon thanked the assistant again before answering Skye's question. "I was expecting dehydration, starvation, exposure, and parasites. You are perfectly fine except for a few scrapes and bruises."

"A few?" Skye couldn't help but laugh harshly. "How's a sprained ankle and a tender skull just a 'few scrapes and bruises'?"

Dr. Shannon's eyebrows knit together. "What happened to your head?"

"I…fell," Skye managed to say. "We were attacked by a Carno. I tripped and was almost eaten alive."

"How on earth did you escape?"

Skye shrugged. "I had the gun."

The woman's brow furrowed deeper still, suspicion flashing in her eyes. "And you didn't use it on Lucas?"

"I – I couldn't." Skye pressed two fingers into her temple, rubbed her eyes. "I picked it up when Lucas dropped it while we were being chased. The Carno was so close that the shockwave of the blast got me."

After a moment, Dr. Shannon nodded. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Maddy Shannon's voice cut her off.

"Mark!" Maddy, arms flailing, came sprinting into the room. She flung her arms around Mark's neck, gripped him tightly. "What are you doing back so early? Are you okay?"

Mark beamed as Maddy fussed over him. "I'm fine. We found Lucas and Skye."

Maddy finally noticed Skye for the first time. "Skye! Oh my God, are you alright?"

Skye nodded, swallowed thickly as Maddy went back to fussing over Mark. She tuned out their voices, focused on Dr. Shannon's actions. She watched as the woman wrapped her ankle tightly, taped it into place. "I'd make a cast," she said, "but I'm afraid you don't have much time for it right now."

Mark straightened, recognizing his cue. "Sorry, Maddy," he said, gripping her hands, "but I need to take Skye up to Commander Taylor for her debriefing."

With a sigh, Skye swung her legs off the bed. Dr. Shannon pressed two crutches into her hands. Grimacing, Skye tucked them beneath her armpits and slowly maneuvered herself forward, her injured foot an inch or so off the ground. She saw Mark press a quick kiss to Maddy's lips before hurrying over to the door of the clinic.

"Make sure you keep off that foot, Skye," Dr. Shannon called after her.

The colonists who knew her stared at her with a mixture of disbelief and relief. The news about her being a traitor had spread, that much she could tell, but the colonists who knew her well enough – and knew about her mother – came up to her and asked how she was doing. Reynolds did his best to wave them away, saying that Skye couldn't talk to anybody until she had been thoroughly debriefed by the Commander. Skye saw Boylan creep into the corner of her vision. She was startled to see a smile of relief cross his features. His thick accent rang across the grounds.

"There she is!" The smile stretched into a grin. "Back from the dead. We thought you were a goner." He came up to her side, his eyes twinkling. "Must've been some vacation – being out there all alone with Lucas Taylor, I mean."

"It wasn't a vacation." Her response soundly strangely hollow in her ears.

"Ah, I'm just pulling your leg." He clapped a hand on her shoulder, wagged a finger in her face. "Can't have you running off anymore. Taylor wants – "

Reynolds stepped in front of Boylan. "You'll have to wait until she's been debriefed, Boylan."

Boylan lifted his hands up, backed away a few steps. "Wouldn't want to disobey the Commander's orders, would I?" His eyes followed Skye as Reynolds led her away.

"_Skye!_" The voice, so familiar, echoed in Skye's ears. She paused, though she didn't dare turn around. "Skye, you're alive!"

Josh embraced her tightly, pulled back to look at her face. Skye nodded, managed a grateful smile. Seeing Josh sent a pang through her chest. Not because she had liked him, not because his girlfriend had died, but because, should he ever try to win her affections, she could never give them back to him – not when Lucas had taken them from her. No doubt he would keep them forever, no matter what happened.

"Are you alright?" Josh's eyes were alive with concern. "Did he hurt you?"

Skye shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak, was interrupted by Reynolds, much to her relief.

"The Commander is going to kill me," he said, passing a hand through his hair, "if I don't get her to him within the next few minutes. I _really_ don't want that."

Josh nodded in understanding. His eyes, like Boylan's, followed Skye as she limped away. She could feel his gaze boring into her back. Her skin crawled until they rounded one of the complexes – when she knew Josh couldn't look at her anymore. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief.

At the base of the stairs, Reynolds tried to help her up. Shaking him off, Skye eased herself onto the first step, managed to heave herself up the rest of the steps despite the awkward crutches. When she reached the top, Reynolds stationed her by the door.

"Stay here while I tell the Commander you're ready," he said.

_I'm _not_ ready_, Skye wanted to cry, but she stood there silently and watched him disappeared around the corner into Taylor's office.

She heard frustrated voices drifting through the nearby window. Glancing at the soldier nearest the door, she inched forward, craned her head to hear what was being said. The voices grew clearer and clearer until she was finally able to discern what was being said.

"Go easy on her, Taylor." It was Jim Shannon talking. "She's been through a lot."

"You think I don't know that?" Taylor's voice was sharp; it made Skye cringe. "Her actions can't be ignored."

"She did it for her dying _mother_." Skye heard Jim move around, heard him sigh heavily. "You can't punish her for that. You would've done the same if you were in her position!"

"No," Taylor snapped, "I would've told somebody with authority right away."

"You would've just used her," Jim pointed out. Skye felt her throat tighten. She wanted to jump up and down in response to Jim's statement, because he was right. "Besides, she was feeding them false information."

"Part of the reason the colony was almost destroyed is because she helped them!" There was a certain strain to Taylor's voice that Skye couldn't place. His anger was well placed, though. Hadn't Lucas told her that he had achieved everything thanks to her? So the blood of those 26 settlers was on _her_ hands.

Nausea rolled in her stomach at the thought.

"She helped you find Lucas," Jim countered once again, his voice growing hard with frustration. "She shot him _twice_ for you. You would be dead if she hadn't shown up!"

"You think I don't know that, too?" Skye heard him pace towards the door, pivot back towards his desk. "But as Commander, I can't let this go lightly."

"You aren't going to banish her, are you?" She heard Jim storm over to the Commander. His voice was incredibly sharp now, sharper than Taylor's had been. "She's suffered enough, don't you think? She spent _five_ days out there with your crazy son – _five_ _days_. Isn't that enough punishment for one person, especially a teenage girl?"

Skye's chest constricted. In the beginning, it had been punishment. The slap and the rough treatment had definitely not been pleasing. But the events of the night before made up for that, Skye supposed. If only Taylor and Jim Shannon knew…

She heard Taylor sigh. "I won't banish her." Skye felt relief wash over her. "But I can't – I can't…"

"She's a teenage girl," Jim repeated, his voice dropping as the edge left his voice. "Her mother's been sick for so long that if she doesn't make it, you're all that Skye has left. Taking that away from her is like watching Ayani die."

"_Don't_." Skye heard Taylor inhale deeply as if preparing himself for some huge ordeal. "I'm still her guardian."

"Then start _acting_ like it," Jim hissed. "She has no one to turn to. The only person that would understand is you. Remember that."

Footsteps approached the door again. Skye stumbled back, managed to keep herself on her foot and crutches. Jim appeared in the doorway, his face weary and lined with frustration. He offered her a thin smile bordering on regret.

"I'm glad to see you're still alive and intact," he said, approaching her. His voice dropped, his eyes darting to look over his shoulder. "I did the best I could."

Skye shrugged, fighting back tears as she managed a thin smile as well. "You know how he is. He'll come around…" _I hope_, she added silently.

Jim nodded, gestured to the door. "Let's get this over with."

Inhaling deeply, Skye limped into Taylor's office, her crutches creaking. Reynolds had disappeared, no doubt to reappear wherever Maddy was. Skye wondered briefly what Maddy's parents thought about the whole relationship. Dr. Shannon hadn't done or said much, but, then again, she had been tending to Skye's injury. She tended to be a focused, driven woman.

Taylor sat behind his desk. His piercing blue eyes did just that – they pierced her soul. Skye didn't even bother attempting a smile. Her chest ached too much to force herself to be congenial when she knew it wouldn't work.

"Skye Alexandria Tate," he said, his voice ringing around the room, "you have a lot of explaining to do."

Her soul withered in her chest.


	23. Debriefed

**A/N:** I'm sorry for not including Lucas in the last chapter, but you'll have to forgive me once more because this chapter doesn't have him in it either. Please bear in mind, though, that these two chapters are very important. I promise the next chapter will have Lucas – it'll be from his point of view, too! So please don't kill me!

One of our fellow fanfiction members – and a wonderful reviewer, I might add – **w****hat the face**, uploaded her own Lucas/Skye video on Youtube. It's really good! Check it out: http:/youtube(.)com/watch?v=OaE8TRNI3gc

I also found yet another Lucas/Skye video on Youtube as well. It's completely fluff! Check it out: youtube(.)com/watch?v=aB9CmzmgREE

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><p>"Sit."<p>

Heart in her mouth, Skye sat down across from Taylor, the desk between them. Jim Shannon took her crutches from her, leaned them up against the wall. He stayed on Skye's end of the table. Though she wouldn't say it then and there, she was grateful that _somebody_ was on her side, that somebody believed her and understood why she had betrayed Terra Nova for three years – somebody who also knew that she was a good kid, no matter what she done.

Although having sex with Lucas was an entirely different matter, one that she hoped would never come up in conversation.

"You were gone for five days," Taylor began, his eyes unblinking, "with my son. Give me one good reason why I should believe that you were kidnapped and didn't go of your own free will."

Skye felt the breath leave her chest as though Taylor had punched her in the stomach. How could he even _think_ that? "I _shot_ him," she managed to say, the words sticking in her throat. "If I was on his side, wouldn't I have shot you instead? I could've let him kill you!"

"I had things under control."

"Excuse me," Skye said, her voice cracking, "but that's bullshit, and you know it."

Taylor flinched, his eyes widening slightly at Skye's profanity. She suppressed a grin of triumph; at least she had made something other than anger and disappointment flicker across his face. Even Jim shifted his weight in surprise, his gaze darting between the Commander and his charge.

"You don't honestly think I would betray you like that?" Skye felt tears pricking her eyes.

"You betrayed me for three _years_." Taylor leaned forward, his face hardening even more so. "You're a traitor to the colony!"

"I never gave them anything important!" The minute the words left her mouth, Skye grimaced. She _had_ given them something important. But Taylor and Jim didn't know that, and she intended to keep it that way. "I came and warned you that Lucas had figured everything out and was going to the portal."

"That's not enough."

"But they had my _mother_." If not for her injured foot, Skye would've leapt out of her seat. Her vision began to blur. "You taught me that family is more important than anything. I wasn't doing this because I was on their side. I did it because they could keep my mother alive."

She saw Taylor's face soften, if only minutely. Her gaze glanced up to Jim, saw the slight hint of a pleased smile touch his lips. She had the feeling he would've winked at her if Taylor hadn't been watching so intently. Despite the frustration building up within her chest, she found it within her to force back the tears, to meet Taylor's intense gaze.

"You're still a traitor – "

"_Was_," Skye yelled. "But all of that's over now! My mother's here, and the Sixers are gone." Her eyes flashed. "I'll never betray you again."

It was a miracle that the words didn't stick in her throat, not when Lucas's face came to mind just as the statement left her lips. Skye swallowed thickly, ran a hand through her hair, glanced away from Taylor's piercing eyes. She could feel his gaze searing her soul, trying to figure out what she wouldn't tell him. Her hands trembled slightly in her lap. Clasping them together between her knees, she found herself staring at the floor, found herself unable to look back at the man that had been something akin to a father for three years. For the first time, she understood Lucas's perspective of his father, understood why he was so sure the man hated him. Taylor was, and always would be, a soldier. Being a father didn't – couldn't – come first.

"You still need to be punished," Taylor finally said, his voice as hard as his eyes. They had turned icy, as if incapable of warmth – which Skye knew was a lie. She couldn't help but remember the softness in his eyes whenever they played chess, or whenever they hung out together when he was busy with his duties as Commander.

"Now, Taylor," Jim said, stepping forward, "she's already been through enough. You heard her – she won't betray you again." Skye could see his eyes begging with the Commander.

Taylor's lips tightened, the lines in his face deepening. He didn't respond to Jim, didn't so much as nod his head in acknowledgement. Instead, he pushed himself away from his desk, came around to face Skye directly. He loomed over her, making clear his position of authority. It wasn't the same man who would never look down at her unless she deserved it – which she did, Skye had to admit. She forced herself to look up at him, found his face suddenly unreadable.

"Lucas," he began, his tone softer than it had been moments before, "he…did he say anything?"

Skye's eyebrows arched in surprise. "About what?"

"The Badlands."

She shook her head. "Nothing. He just said that that's where we were headed before Mark showed up."

Jim took the stage then, rescuing Skye from Taylor's hard stare. "He didn't say anything at all? Nothing about what Mira found there? Not even _why_ he was headed there?"

"Nothing."

"What I don't understand," Jim continued, glancing over his shoulder at the Commander, "is why he took you with him."

_You wouldn't want to_, Skye almost said. She bit back the words, however, and scrambled to come up with a plausible answer. A previous conversation with Lucas came to mind, pushing away all the thoughts of his kisses out of her mind. She focused on Jim's face as she spoke, not daring to look at Taylor.

"He said something about holding me hostage," she explained. "I'm not really sure. I think he was hoping that I could be his bait – his bargaining chip, maybe?" She cocked her head. "I really don't know."

"I still don't think you were being held captive." Taylor stood up, pushed Jim out from between himself and Skye. "Bosh told me that when they found you, you weren't tied up or anything. In fact, Bosh told me something pretty interesting. He said you were _snuggling_." He leaned forward, gripped the arms of the chair Skye was sitting in. "That doesn't sound like a kidnapping to me."

Skye's voice died in her throat. She fought to say something, found she couldn't come up with a plausible explanation. "What's _wrong_ with you?" Her voice cracked again. Her heart thudded in her chest; she could feel a thin bead of sweat trickling down the back of her neck. "I was kidnapped! You think I _wanted_ to be stuck out there with Lucas? He threatened to kill my mother! He would've killed me too, if it hadn't been for – " Skye choked on the words, managed to keep them from slipping past her lips.

"If it hadn't been for what?" Taylor demanded.

Skye found it hard to swallow. "He needed my help," she answered. "I shot him, remember? He needed me to fix him up so he could get to the Badlands without dying first."

"And he just happened to pick you, a Sixer spy, to do the job?"

Skye didn't know she did it. She shoved Taylor out of her face, jumped out of her seat. The chair clattered to the floor behind her, knocked over in the frenzy. Taylor's eyes flashed, though Skye was sure she saw surprise – and a mild degree of pride? – in his icy blues than anger. Jim took a step forward, though he hesitated as if unsure whether or not to intervene in the showdown. Skye's voice had reached a fever pitch; she was almost sure colonists outside could hear her.

"What do you think? He wasn't going to kidnap _you_, was he?" She took a step forward, jabbed a finger in his chest. "He's not stupid, Taylor! He wouldn't have gone back to the colony to kidnap somebody else, either. Why not make it easy and kidnap somebody who's already nearby, somebody the Commander cares – " Her voice grew hard, her eyes flashing even as a few tears spilled down her face, " – _cared_ about? Of course, that person also happens to be traitor, so maybe the Great Commander _wouldn't_ care about her, so it was even better! Lucas wouldn't have to worry about being followed, would he, because what kind of Commander would go after a traitor just to save her? Huh?"

All the frustration left her as the words hung in the air. She wished she could take them all back. The look in Taylor's face was unbearable. She felt her withering soul twist inside, felt it hook into her heart and squeeze. The Commander passed a hand over his face, rose to his full height. Skye felt Jim tense beside her, watched as he took a step forward between her and Taylor.

"You," Taylor said, walking back to his seat, "are staying in my house for the time being." Skye noticed Jim visibly relax. "You will continue your internship with Dr. Shannon, but you will also be working at Boylan's bar so Boylan and Josh can keep an eye on you." His eyes darted up to meet hers. "You won't be going anywhere near the gates."

He sat down, turned away from Skye. Jim glanced over his shoulder at her, relief flashing his eyes, though lines of confusion creased his brow. Skye's own brow furrowed, her heart quickly settling back down. She passed a hand over her face, stared at the back of Taylor's head.

"That's it?" she asked, his voice wavering slightly.

"We're done for now," was Taylor's only response.

Jim touched Skye's elbow, his eyes cautioning her against protesting further. Retrieving her crutches from the wall, Jim handed them to her and led her out. The soldier at the door inclined his head in Jim's direction as he passed. Skye stared down the stairs, her hands sweaty around the crutches' handles. She glanced up at Jim, managed a weak, thin smile that came across as more of a grimace.

"Just give him time," Jim told her, helping her down the stairs.

"What's _wrong_ with him?" she asked for the second time that day, her voice strained.

Jim shrugged, his eyes darkening slightly. "I don't know. I'm sure you already know that he hasn't been the same."

She nodded. "I'm – I'm worried."

"You aren't the only one." At the bottom of the stairs, Jim handed her off to Bosh, who had appeared out of nowhere. He did his best to give her a comforting smile. "I better get back."

Skye watched him ascend the stairs. "One more thing," she called. Jim paused at the top of the stairs. "Where's Lucas?"

"In the brig," Jim replied, his brow furrowing. "Why?"

"Nothing."

She could feel Jim's eyes on her until she rounded the corner. Keeping secrets was going to be a lot harder than before.


	24. Mistake

**A/N:** Look, another update in one day! Aren't you guys lucky? :D This one is, as promised, from Lucas's point of view. Don't worry, Skye will meet up with him shortly. How? You'll just have to wait and find out. Muhahahahahahaha!

**Keepthisasecret**, your review was really heartwarming. I'm glad you think so highly of my work, even when it's really not that good or anything. My reaction to your last paragraph: roflmao. Brig Sex? (That goes for you, too, **Helen**.) Because you brought up the mention of little babies in the future, that really had me cracking up. I love how all you guys want there to be Lucas-Skye babies. It's both amusing and disturbing at the same time. We already have one genius psychopath in this story – and you want him to _spawn_? Rofl. You'll just have to wait and see what happens!

I found another Lucas Taylor tribute video. It's really interesting and not only gives a great character study on Lucas, but it also emphasizes the relationship between him and his father. Check it out: youtube(.)com/watch?v=aI8HFAlDtcA

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><p>The last time Lucas had been in the brig, he had tortured Jim Shannon in an effort to get information about his father's whereabouts after the Phoenix Group occupied Terra Nova. It had been a real pleasure seeing Shannon in cuffs – especially when he writhed beneath the electric shocks that Lucas's taser "stick" shot through him.<p>

Now he was on the other side. Lucas didn't bother straining against his bonds. They were much stronger than the ones that had bound him in the rover after Skye had led an ambush against him, and he definitely didn't have anything sharp enough to cut through them. The bars that ran straight up into the ceiling of the brig were finely rounded; all sharp edges on _anything_ had been smoothed away to rounded corners. Only one door led into and out of the containment facility, and a guard was posted just outside it. Lucas had seen the weapon slung across the guard's back. They weren't taking any chances.

He sat in the corner, huddled in the darkness. He could see the door without a problem, could hear someone approaching if he pressed his ear to the cold wall. His vantage point gave him a chance to think through things without worrying about being interrupted. The last he wanted was to be in the middle of some great escape plan only to have some soldier walk in on him and hear him speak his thoughts aloud. He was silent, of course, but when his mind drifted to the places that gave him profound ideas, he wasn't sure whether he did or didn't speak his mind. It wouldn't surprise him if he did.

As he sat there, anger boiling beneath his skin, Lucas's thoughts drifted to Skye. The anger melted away, replaced only with concern and fear. If Taylor found out what had happened between her and Lucas, he was bound to do something – whether it was banishment or imprisonment, Lucas wasn't sure. He could only hope that Skye hadn't said anything. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he shook his head, laughed harshly to himself. He had every reason to doubt her – she had betrayed him twice! – but he knew she wouldn't speak of the previous night's events, not when it meant she could be forever estranged.

The thought made him wonder what the Great Commander had thought of the whole ordeal, of whether he had forgiven Skye of her transgressions yet. If Lucas was right, Taylor wouldn't be quite so forgiving, which meant Skye was back where she started before she had been kidnapped – and having sex with Lucas hadn't helped things.

He tried to focus on the memory of his fingers trailing over her skin, of the quiet moans that had echoed in his ears in the wake of their lovemaking. The taste of her, mingled with sweat and the smoke from the fire, still lingered in his mouth. The warmth of her body, pressed to his in the wee hours of the morning, sent a wave of pleasure rolling through him.

Lucas frowned, struggled to keep the memories at the forefront of his mind. But seeing his father's face after such an eventful night only reminded him of how much he hated his father. Nathaniel Taylor, the Great Commander, had yet again ruined things for his estranged, genius son. Lucas was sure that, with Skye by his side, he could've entirely forgotten about beating his old man and taking over Terra Nova again. He could've forgotten about his employers, could've forgotten the Sixers. He could've laid everything aside for Skye. The thought of having children with her had already crossed his mind once or twice; it sent a shiver of excitement coursing through him.

But his father had destroyed that. He had taken Skye from him and had locked him up in the brig to rot away the rest of his life. Lucas would probably never see Skye, would probably never taste her lips again or hold her in his arms. And that infuriated him even more than his father's previous actions.

Footsteps echoed outside the brig. Lucas heard the guard click his heels together, no doubt to greet the Commander with the customary salute. A few words were exchanged in low tones. Lucas tensed, waited for his father to enter the facility. With his hands tied behind his back and no weapons, he couldn't assault his father like he wanted to, but he nevertheless wanted to be ready. He pushed himself to his feet, faced the door. Anger still simmered beneath the surface.

The door swung open on oiled hinges. Lucas met his father's icy gaze, his own eyes blazing with his defiance. He immediately noted the presence of Jim Shannon behind the Commander, along with two guards. Taylor waved them away, though he ordered them to keep the door open a crack to hear what was going on inside.

"Afraid I'll do something, _dad_?" Lucas sneered, his lips twisting into a snarl. "In case you haven't noticed, I really _can't_, can I? Not while I'm tied up like some hog."

Jim stood to the side, arms crossed over his chest. He watched Lucas wordlessly, though his eyes revealed more than the Taylor's. Lucas glanced over at him, the anger in his face diminishing as a question left his lips.

"Where's Skye?" His voice hardened with suspicion bordering on panic. "What have you done with her?"

"It doesn't matter," Taylor said, forcing Lucas's attention back at him. "You won't ever see her again."

Something seized in Lucas's chest. He lunged for his father despite his restraints. "_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER?_"

Jim intervened, leapt between them. He hooked his arms around Lucas's shoulders, pinned him to the ground. Lucas writhed against him, stared up at his father's face with such hatred and fury that he could see it reflected in his father's pupils. The disgust that flickered over Taylor's face did little to ease Lucas's anger. He elbowed Jim in the stomach, managed to thrash hard enough to get the cop off him. Scrambling to his feet, he glared at his father.

"Tell me where she is," he demanded.

"Or what?" Taylor asked. He strode forward, gripped Lucas by the collar. "You'll stab me again? Your mother would be so _horrified _of you."

"Of me?" Lucas couldn't help but laugh harshly. "_You're_ the one who banished _me_, remember? You banished your own son! What do you think Mom would say to that, huh?"

"You were threatening Terra Nova – "

"That doesn't give you the right to disown me!" Lucas tore free from his father's grasp, fought to keep his balance. The wound beside his mouth had reopened; he tasted the blood on his lips, felt it trickle down his chin. "It's all _your_ fault I'm this way, and you know it!"

Taylor's eyes flashed, though Lucas wasn't sure whether it was regret or anger in his father's face. "You're even more disillusioned than I thought," he snarled. "Look at you! You are sick and twisted, and as much as it pains me to say it, you are no longer my son."

Lucas's eyebrows arched in surprise. He glanced at Jim, gave another harsh laugh. "Did you hear that?" He shook his head, a smirk twisting his lips. "He says I'm not his son anymore! Well, I've got news for you, _pops_," he snarled, returning his attention to his father. "I stopped being your son in 2138."

Jim intervened again, though this time it was with words. "Why did the Phoenix Group and the Sixers head for the Badlands the minute they knew that Hope Plaza had been destroyed?"

Lucas fixed his gaze on the cop. A smirk touched his lips even as he feigned naivety. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"No?" His father seized him by the collar again, yanked him forward. The lines in his face had deepened tenfold, accentuated by the anger in his cold eyes. "Why were you headed there, then?"

Lucas pushed himself away for the second time, his eyes darting between the father and the cop. "Well, this is a surprise. I thought you'd be happy that they left." His gaze met his father's. "No more Sixers, no more problems, right?"

Jim stepped forward, his eyebrows knitting together. "We saw the ship."

Lucas blinked innocently. "What ship?"

Taylor's fist connected with Lucas's jaw. Pain exploded through his face as he staggered away. The blood from his wound grew from a trickle to a stream, staining the front of his shirt. Inhaling deeply, Lucas drew himself up, nodded as he tasted the blood on his lips again. His father's face was contorted by rage and horror, his features twisted horribly into anger and grief.

"I really didn't think you could do it," Lucas said, wincing as his jaw throbbed as he spoke. "Hurt me, I mean. Does it hurt you?" A sadistic smile touched his lips as he gestured towards his father's concealed torso. "I hope it does, that way you can remember your mistake forever."

"I should've never banished you," Taylor snarled, his hand reaching for his wound unconsciously.

Lucas sat down on one of the rounded seats that the brig provided, another harsh laugh of disbelief ripping past his throat. He tipped his head back, shook his head. "You really don't get it, do you?" He straightened, focused his gaze on his father once again, his own eyes as hard as his father's features. "That's not the mistake I'm talking about."

Taylor stormed forward, glared into his son's face. "What mistake, then?"

"Having me," Lucas replied, his voice calm and steady. "For letting me be born."

His father pulled back, something akin to disbelief flickering in his eyes. Lucas could see the harsh, military façade in his face weakening, could see a crack within the hard, angry features. He smirked to himself, pleased that he had once again unsettled his father with his words. When weapons failed, words would always work with his father. Wasn't that how Lucas had deceived him back in the forest? Wasn't that how he was able to stab him without his father doubting his sincerity?

Jim had been fidgeted uncomfortably during the entire exchange from what Lucas could tell. The cop stepped forward, inched himself between Taylor and Lucas. His eyes were cautionary for Taylor, were frustrated for Lucas. He glanced at Lucas, his brow furrowing once again.

"Back to the ship," he said, assuming his cop persona. "Mira brought it back from the Badlands, right? How did it even get there?"

Lucas let his eyes flutter close for a moment, the pain in his jaw growing more and more painful with each passing moment. "I'm sure you've already thought of a way, Shannon," he finally said, opening his eyes to meet the cop's stare. "You don't need me to tell you anything."

The frustration was getting to Jim, that much Lucas could tell. The vessel in the cop's temple had distended, pushing against the thin flesh. A red flush had crept up the back of the cop's neck, accentuated by the tightening of the chords in his neck. He looked much like Lucas's father in that regard, whose own face had gone red with his anger moments before. The disbelief had drained the flush out of Taylor's face, though the tautness in his neck remained, as well as the pulsating vessel in his temple. If Lucas hadn't known about the cop's record prior to coming to Terra Nova, he would've thought them to be cut from the same cloth.

"What's so important out there?" Jim demanded. Taylor had fallen back, his face expressionless. Lucas's gaze darted to meet his father's, found that his eyes betrayed him. Lucas could see the gears turning, could see his father trying to digest Lucas's words and understand their importance.

_Stupid man_, Lucas thought bitterly, his brow furrowing. If his father still didn't understand, then he never would.

"What's so important out there?" Jim repeated, stepping into Lucas's line of vision.

Sighing, Lucas turned his attention back to the cop. "How's your son? Feeling better? I gave him a nasty beating, didn't I? How long do you think it'll take his face to heal?"

Jim exercised more control than Taylor for once. Lucas could see the man's emotions warring in his face. Jim pulled back, passed a hand over his face as he walked off his anger around the brig. Taylor's gaze hadn't left the bars beside Lucas. Lucas smirked to himself, shifted his weight to relieve the pressure on his hands. The Great Commander seemed so helpless in that moment. No doubt he was thinking of Ayani, thinking of how she probably could've remedied the situation. If she had been, though, none of this would've happened.

Lucas might've still been normal, and he certainly wouldn't have hated his father if his mother still remained alive.

"I'm going to ask you one more time," Jim said, coming back around to face Lucas. "What's out there in the Badlands?"

Lucas smirked. "The key to everything."

He refused to say more than that despite Jim's intense interrogation tactics. His father didn't say anything, just watched wordlessly as Jim grilled Lucas for answers and received none. Lucas took great pride in his father's silence. He had, for once, silenced the Great Commander and, yet again, had shaken his solid world.

Jim eventually grew tired of Lucas. Speaking in low tones with Taylor, he managed to get the Commander to head with him towards the door. Lucas shifted in his seat, leaned forward to see them leave.

"Wait!" He watched with satisfaction as Jim stopped. No doubt the cop thought Lucas was going to divulge some great secret. "Where's Skye?"

Taylor finally spoke up. "Safe from you."

Lucas caught a glimpse of Jim's confused, suspicious eyes before the door shut and the iron clanged into place, sealing him once again inside the brig – all alone.

Thinking of Skye once again, Lucas recalled what he had told her before everything went to hell. He told her he could change, that he would prove it to her.

"_I don't think you can do it_," she had said.

Sitting there, he realized there was only thing that would prove to Skye that he could change for the better. He would have to reconcile with his father.

A sigh slipped past his lips.


	25. I Didn't, But I Did

**A/N:** You guys are all so supportive! I absolutely love it!

One of our fellow fanfiction members, **whisperingflaws**, has begun her own _Terra Nova_ fanfic called _Sins & Omissions_ in which Lucas actually has a sister! The first chapter was really well written, and it really looks like it could be a promising story. Check it out: fanfiction(.)net/s/7704222/1/Sins_Omissions

**Numbersixteen** just updated _Cut Off Without Amends_ – and the action is really heating up! Check it out!

I came across another Lucas Taylor character study vide on Youtube – and it's the best by far! Check it out: youtube(.)com/watch?v=MEvisI5q9f0

**RMinlights**, I actually have seen that video! It was very amusing. I think I linked it on one of the early chapters of my fic, possibly Chapter 7 – whichever one was _Memories_. Thanks for reminding me, though!

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><p>Five days. Skye hadn't realized that time could pass by so slowly – or so painfully. It felt like ten years.<p>

She shimmied out of her lab coat, clocked out of the clinic. She made sure to say tell Dr. Shannon that she was on her way to Boylan's bar for her second job. The woman nodded and smiled, though her task at hand demanded more attention. Skye waited until Dr. Shannon had refocused her attention on her work before she slipped out the other door – away from Bosh, her watchdog at that point – and headed in the opposite direction of Boylan's bar.

The sun was still high in the sky, though it was sure to set within two or three hours. An hour or two after nightfall, Taylor would come and pick her up from Boylan's bar to take her back to his home, where he would feed her but say nothing. The silence had slowly been killing Skye inside, even more so than the disappointed look that flickered in the Commander's eyes every time he saw her. He had started sleeping out on his couch so he could keep an eye on Skye's door in case she tried to sneak out; the window in her room had been sealed shut. She may as well have been put in the brig alongside Lucas – it felt as bad as a prison.

The marketplace was just around the corner. Skye fingered the terras in her pocket, trying to decide what she could and couldn't afford to buy. She had left her crutches back in the clinic because her ankle had healed so well already that she found it faster to limp. She glanced down at the ground, watched it pass by beneath her feet. She had to be quick about it, though, she knew that much. Bosh would notice her tardiness; he would no doubt talk to Dr. Shannon and find out that Skye had already left – without him, of course, which was in violation of her probation, as she liked to think of it.

So consumed was she in her thoughts that she collided with something solid, yet fleshy. Stumbling back, she met Malcolm's light, misty blue eyes.

"You okay there, Skye?" he asked, his eyes reflecting only mild concern. Skye managed a nod, forced a weak smile despite the rapid palpitations of her heart. "Aren't you supposed to be at the clinic?"

Skye shook her head. "My shift just ended. I'm on my way to Boylan's."

Malcolm's eyebrows arched. He glanced around, returned his curious gaze to Skye. "You're going the wrong way."

Skye nodded. "Yeah, um, I was hungry. I wanted to buy an apple or something before I went to Boylan's."

The Chief Science Officer nodded, smiled. "I'll walk you there and to Boylan's bar."

Skye suppressed a curse. _Taylor's told everybody_, she realized, frowning. _I'll never be able to get away._

Malcolm flanked her side as she limped to the marketplace. Perusing the fruit, she bought the one with the most nutrients – it also happened to be the one that filled the stomach up fast – and also bought a small loaf of bread. Tucking them beneath her arm, she fought to remain calm. She had to get away from Malcolm somehow without making him suspicious.

"Shouldn't you be using your crutches?" he suddenly asked, noticing her limp for the first time.

"Yes," Skye answered, her voice harder than it should've been, "but I – I forgot them in the clinic." An idea suddenly came to mind. "Could you get them for me? I need to stop by Taylor's house to change," she lied, "and I'll be late if I have to go back for my crutches."

Malcolm frowned, his brow creasing slightly. He glanced over his shoulder, sighed. "I suppose."

"If I don't come to the door," Skye continued, her mind still scrambling to form a coherent lie, "I'm in the bathroom. You can leave the crutches by the door."

She couldn't help but notice the unease that settled in Malcolm's features. He glanced around again, peered down at the watch fastened around his wrist. Passing a hand through his hair, he nodded. "Fine," he muttered, turning in the direction of the clinic. "At least I'll be able to talk to Elizabeth for a moment."

_Yes, you do that_, Skye thought, watching him leave. Knowing Malcolm, he'd get sidetracked talking with Elizabeth long enough for Skye to do what she needed to do. Hopefully Bosh wouldn't ask questions when Malcolm left with her crutches; maybe he wouldn't notice. He wasn't exactly the brightest crayon in the box, that much Skye knew. How she hadn't managed to slip past him earlier was beyond her.

She tried to appear as normal and nonchalant as possible. After the first few days, the colonists had stopped looking at her every time she walked by. Now they hardly noticed her, much to her relief. She had grown tired of the stares, of the looks that flickered in their suspicious eyes. Nevertheless, she kept close to the houses, slipped between them so nobody could see where her ultimate destination was.

"No one's allowed inside," the guard at the door said when she finally reached him. A thin bead of nervous sweat trickled down Skye's neck.

"I was sent by Dr. Shannon," she lied, struggling to get the words out of her throat. "He may be a prisoner, but he needs to be fed."

The guard's face was expressionless. Taylor knew how to pick them. Skye wished she had kept her lab coat on; it would've made her more convincing.

She sighed, glared up at the man. "Look, I really don't care, but I'm sure Taylor wouldn't be happy if his son died of starvation because _you_ wouldn't let me in."

"I have strict orders to remain here," the soldier said in clipped, short tones. Skye suppressed a grin of triumph as she noticed the slight wavering in his voice. "I won't be able to follow you inside."

Skye shrugged. "He's tied up, right?" The soldier nodded. "Then I'll be fine."

The soldier's iron façade finally fell away, replaced by indecision. Glancing over Skye's shoulder, he finally nodded and stepped aside to key in the code. Skye's tried to memorize the sequence of numbers as t he door slid open to allow her entrance. She smiled at the soldier, stepped inside. The door slid shut behind her.

A wave of cold air cascaded over her, made goosebumps pimple across her arms. Clutching the fruit and bread tightly, she peered into the poorly lit holding facility, her eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness.

"Lucas?" she asked, her voice just above a conspiratorial whisper.

"Skye, is that you?" The desperation in his voice rang out across the room. He came out of nowhere, his eyes better adapted to the darkness. His hand seized her face, pulled her close. "He didn't banish you," he said, the relief in his voice evident. "I thought I'd never see you again." He pulled away, stared into her eyes. "How did you slip past the guard?"

Skye shrugged, found that her breath had hitched in her throat. "I'm a…talented liar," she decided, forcing a weak smile. "How're you holding up?"

Lucas grinned. "Shannon hasn't gotten a word out of me." He chuckled. "And my dear father hasn't spoken to me since I was locked in here." He pulled her closer, pressed his lips to hers. His tongue sought hers, his whole body seeking solace from her. When he pulled away, his voice was husky. "I'm so glad to see you."

Skye smiled softly, having taken a moment to relish the feel of his lips on hers. She cleared her throat, glanced over her shoulder at the door. "I brought some food," she said. "I know they're feeding you, but I'm sure it's hardly anything."

Lucas's hands wrapped around hers as she handed him the fruit and the bread. "I only get one meal," he muttered, his voice growing hard. "I'm starving to death."

"Can't be any worse than being alone in the forest." Skye gently pulled her hands from his, her eyes once again darting towards the door. When she glanced back to Lucas, she saw the wound beside his mouth. "You're hurt."

He nodded. "It seems my father has a penchant for violence. I knew I got it from someone." His lips twitched into a triumphant, if not bitter, smile. It faded, however, as quickly as it had appeared. "Has my father talked to you?"

"Kinda," Skye admitted. Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, averted her eyes. "He just debriefed me, that's all." She forced her gaze back up to Lucas. "I didn't tell him anything."

"Why not?" A twisted smile touched his lips. "I know, I know, don't even bother answering the question. I can't help it – I'm just so happy to see you." Setting the bread and fruit on the ground, he reached up, traced a pattern on her cheek with his thumb. "Taylor told me I'd never get to see you again…"

"He's doing a good job then," Skye murmured, losing herself for just a moment beneath Lucas's touch. "It's a miracle I even got here. He's forcing me to stay at his house until he can trust me again – "

"Which will be never," Lucas interrupted, his voice suddenly hard.

Skye suppressed the urge to hit him in that moment, knowing that he was once again right, and continued, " – and he's having me watched at all times. When I finish working at the clinic for the day, I have to go straight to Boylan's bar and work for him so he and Josh can keep an eye on me."

She felt him tense at the mention of Josh. Glancing up to meet his eyes – she hadn't realized how beautiful they actually were – she thought she saw something akin to a protective jealousy flicker in his pupils. It vanished quickly, however, replaced only with the odd look of concern that she had only seen a few times on Lucas's face.

"How did you get away, then?" he asked.

Skye shrugged. "I snuck out the back door of the clinic after I told Dr. Shannon that I had finished my shift."

"Isn't Boylan expecting you?"

"Yes, but I'll just tell him that Dr. Shannon needed me to stay for a while longer to finish something." Skye shrugged again, felt her throat tightening. "I've never lied so much in my life."

Lucas shifted, took her face in his hands again, forced her to look up at him. "You didn't have to," he said.

"Lie?"

He shook his head. "Come and see me."

"You're right, I didn't," Skye said, her mind screaming, _Yes I did_, "but I did, so you can't complain."

His lips twitched into an amused smirk. "Who said I was complaining?"

"Your face did." She placed her hands on his chest, gently pushed. "I better get going before I'm missed."

The smirk faded from Lucas's face. He leaned forward, pressed his lips to hers again. He pulled her close, his hands sliding away from her face to loop around her waist. Skye felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer still. The stubble on his face, longer now, still tickled her cheeks and lips. He sucked on her lower lip, gently nipped it.

"Don't go," he whispered when he pulled away, his eyes fluttering shut. "I don't want my father to take you away again."

Skye shook her head. "If he catches me here," she said, "he'll take me away forever." She stepped back, gestured to the food. "Eat. You'll need your strength."

She left him standing there, his eyes longing for her even as the door closed shut behind her. Refusing to glance at the guard, Skye limped away to Taylor's house. Malcolm had done what she had said; the crutches leaned up against the front door. Tucking them beneath her armpits, she hauled herself over to Boylan's bar. Bosh was already inside, talking with Boylan. He turned around, his face a mask of anxiety and anger. No doubt he had panicked when he realized Skye had slipped by him.

"Where were you?" he demanded.

"At Taylor's house," Skye answered, feeling yet another lie come to her lips. "Didn't Malcolm tell you? I sent him back to get my crutches." The look of confusion on Bosh's face did little to calm Skye's unease. "I walked right by you! Didn't you hear me tell you where I was going?"

The soldier spluttered a response. Skye's eyes darted to Boylan, whose face had split into an amused grin. His eyebrows, however, arched when he met Skye's gaze. She had the feeling that, as always, he knew more than he let on. Nevertheless, he set down the cup he had been cleaning and tapped Bosh on the shoulder.

"Well, she's here now," he drawled. "You can go now. I'll make sure Taylor doesn't hear a thing."

Bosh's lips pressed into a thin line before he nodded and headed for the door. Skye watched him go before setting aside her crutches and limping behind the bar. Boylan's eyes followed her, one eyebrow still quirked. Skye met his gaze again, her own brow furrowing.

"What?"

"Where were you really?" he asked, handing her a few cups to clean.

"At Taylor's house," she repeated, struggling to keep her voice steady.

"I'm sure." Boylan shook his head, draped the dishtowel over his shoulder. "Rush hour is almost here. Get those cleaned up as fast as you can."

Grimacing, Skye piled all the dirty cups and dishes into the sink, managed to create lather from the soap Boylan had provided. Soon she had the water up to her elbows. Ruminating on Lucas's words, she went to work, the hot water scalding her skin. She ignored the heat, however, too consumed by the lingering sensation of Lucas's lips on hers. One by one, each cup and plate was cleaned and set aside for later use.

"You were late," Boylan drawled from behind her. She jumped, nearly dropped a cup. "What were you doing in Taylor's house?"

Skye's gaze darted to his. Her throat felt like it was closing in on her, another bead of sweat trickling down her neck. She swallowed thickly, fought to contort her face into a look of annoyance. "It's not any of your business."

Boylan nodded, his eyes alight with mischief and amusement. Slapping a dry dishtowel onto her shoulder, he ordered, "Dry them, too."

A heavy sigh slipped past Skye's lips. "Why can't Josh do this?"

"He's worked here longer than you," Boylan replied. His voice dropped, his eyes darting towards the door. "Besides, if he complains, I'll have to hear from his father."

Skye suddenly understood. A wry smile twisted her lips. "Aw, you're scared of Josh's father? How cute."

Boylan's eyes flashed. "There are some _things_ here that I'd rather not share with the cop," he hissed. "You of all people should know that."

Skye's soul twisted once again within her chest as Boylan headed upstairs. Pulling the dry dishtowel off her shoulder, she picked up the first cup, glanced down at her reflection in the dark, sudsy water. Her mirrored image rippled with the movement of the water. Frowning, Skye pulled the plug in the sink.

Her reflection drained away with the rest of the dirty water. She had the feeling that her soul had, too.


	26. Still Her Guardian

**A/N:** Thanks for all the wonderful support!

**Coolgal99**, the name of the chapter, _I Didn't, But I Did_, refers to when Lucas told Skye that she didn't have to come see him, and she agrees with him, only to say that she _did_ go see him. It's in there in the chapter somewhere. Lol.

**What the face**, don't be so disheartened! My fic is far from a work of art, believe me. I'm sure any idea you come up with for a Lucas/Skye fic will be amazing! And your review wasn't that messed up – I got the gist of it. :)

One of my reviewers, **A**, pointed out the name Bosh. No, it is not a misspelling of Josh, as much as I would love to butcher him in some way – even if it _is_ through his name. Rofl. Anyway, Bosh is one of Taylor's soldiers. He's not actually real on the show, but I didn't want to pull Riley or someone else because I was too lazy to go reexamine their personality to capture them right. So, again for clarification, Bosh and Josh are two entirely different people; the former is the soldier assigned to Skye most of the time, and Josh is just Josh. xP

**Miss Junie**, your reviews are really uplifting – and hilarious, too. Thank you for them!

**Wren Maxwell**, your review had me beaming. I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far! The voices bit, by the way, had me laughing. I hear voices all the time. Just kidding, rofl.

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><p>Boylan made Skye stay late to work a few days later. It turned out to work for the best, because Taylor was busy planning with Jim on how best to figure out what was at the Badlands without sending a full attack force there. Skye wasn't happy about it. Though Boylan was perfectly fine – she certainly enjoyed his company – it was Josh that unsettled her. He had stuck close to her ever since Taylor had allowed her to talk to everyone after her debriefing. It was as if he had decided to super glue himself to her without her permission.<p>

And Skye _really_ didn't like it.

As the bar began to close for the night, Skye found herself cleaning dishes once again. The hot water scalded her up to her elbows, reminded her of the heat and friction she had created with Lucas when they had made love. The very memory of it made her face flush red. It still sent pleasurable shivers down her spine, sent pleasurable shivers that settled between her legs and made her yearn for more. She fought to keep her breath steady as she finished washing the dishes, the memories threatening to overwhelm her.

_I'm deprived_, she realized suddenly. The sensations left her in an instant, replaced only by unease. Disconcerted, she set about drying the dishes, trying to formulate a plan to see Lucas again without getting caught. She had scoped out the brig when she had passed by once or twice, but she hadn't noticed any other way to get in aside from the one door. There had to be a vent _somewhere_.

"Here, let me help."

Josh's voice startled Skye, nearly made her jump out of her skin. Her lips pressing into a thin smile, she moved aside to let him help her finish the job. Though she focused on the cup in her hands, she couldn't help but notice Josh sneaking glances at her. She did her best to ignore them, but as he continued to look at her, her skin began to crawl. Fidgeting beneath his gaze, Skye finally looked up, stared hard at him.

"What?" she snapped, her voice harsher than she intended.

Josh blinked, surprised by her reaction. "Nothing."

Her brow furrowed. "You're lying." Draping the damp dishtowel over her shoulder, she set aside the last of her dried dishes, faced Josh. "I really don't like being stared at."

Josh shrugged, put aside the last of his dried dishes too. Plucking the dishtowel off Skye's shoulder, he tossed it onto the counter behind the bar, along with his, for Boylan to pick up later. "You've been different," he said suddenly, turning back to Skye.

A thin sliver of dread wormed its way into Skye's chest. Swallowing thickly, Skye asked, her voice wavering slightly, "Different?"

Josh shrugged again, ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "I don't know. You've been…distracted."

Skye managed a shaky chuckle. "Distracted?" She snorted, shook her head. "That's all? I mean, I'm only the talk of the colony." A frown tugged at her lips. "Everybody knows I'm a traitor."

"_Was_ a traitor," Josh snapped. "You aren't anymore."

Skye's eyebrow quirked in surprise. Shaking her head, she limped around the bar, pulled her crutches off the wall. "Tell that to Taylor," she muttered.

"You get all the washing done?" Boylan asked, descending the stairs. He glanced at the cleared bar counter. "Atta girl. Tomorrow, then?"

Skye nodded, was unable to keep a sigh from slipping past her lips. "I really don't have a choice."

"Well, no, you don't," Boylan agreed, frowning. "But the Christmas Festival is in a few days. I'm sure Taylor will give you a break then."

Skye felt Josh come up behind her. She inched herself away, perturbed by his closeness. "Isn't that your busiest time?" he asked. His shoulder brushed Skye's. Whether it was on purpose or not, Skye didn't like it. She edged away further, began hauling her way to the front of the bar.

"No," Boylan agreed, his eyes trained on Skye's back, "New Years is. That's when the _real_ drinking happens." Though his lips twitched into a grin, his eyes, still following Skye as she headed for the door, didn't mirror his mirth. "Aren't you going to wait for Taylor?" he called after her.

Skye shook her head, glanced over her shoulder. "He said he wouldn't be home for a while. You probably want to close up and get home anyway." She forced a warm smile. "I don't want to be the one to keep you."

She could see Boylan on the verge of offering to walk her home – no doubt to remain on Taylor's good side – but Josh stepped forward, his face a bit too eager for Skye's liking. "I'll walk you home," he said, smiling. He nodded to Boylan. "See you tomorrow."

Boylan inclined his head in acknowledgment, though his gaze flitted back to Skye the moment Josh turned his back. Skye met the bartender's gaze, wasn't sure whether she saw unease or disappointment in his eyes. Over the past few days, she had sensed that the man wanted to talk to her, but with Josh shadowing her every move the moment she stepped into the bar, the man hadn't been alone with Skye at all. Skye had made sure of that to some extent, too afraid of what Boylan might say or do if he _did_ catch her alone. She had the feeling it was going to be about Lucas – and that couldn't be good at all.

"Be careful," he said as they left, though Skye had the distinct impression he was talking specifically to her.

The cool night air immediately descended on Skye's warm body, eager to sap away all her warmth. Hobbling forward on her crutches, she actually relished the nip of the breeze at her cheeks. It kicked up her hair, toyed with about her face. It reminded her of being out in the forest with Lucas, as much as she had hated it in the first few initial days. She found herself almost wishing she was back out there with Lucas, no longer chained to any obligations. Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized that she really hadn't had anything to worry about out there – not even dinosaurs. They had survived well enough against the prehistoric creatures, and they hadn't starved at all. Out there, Skye wasn't a traitor – and Lucas hadn't been a pariah.

"Is there something you want to talk about?"

Josh's voice shattered Skye's musings. Shaking her head, she scrambled to return back to reality, struggled to find an emotional footing on the crag that she had found herself on the moment she had returned to Terra Nova. She glanced over at Josh, found the concerned look in his eyes unnerving and displeasing. She wanted to hit the look off his face in that instant, wanted to knock sense back into his head, wanted to tell him that she wasn't his – that she never would be.

She shook her head again. "Nothing," she said as sweetly and convincingly as possible. Pausing to pass a hand over her face, she sighed. "I'm just tired." Which wasn't entirely a lie. She could feel weariness tugging on her soul, pushing down on her shoulders, trying to make her bow. "It's been a long day."

"No kidding," Josh agreed, smiling softly. He kept close to her as they continued forward, despite Skye's efforts to maintain distance from him. "It's beautiful tonight, isn't it?"

Skye glanced up at the sky, saw the familiar mapping of the stars stretching out above her head. Staring up at the numerous constellations, she realized that the stars had been even more vivid in the jungle. She remembered tracing patterns in her mind among the stars in the aftermath of her lovemaking with Lucas. She could hardly believe that it had been nine days since the incident. It seemed like an eternity.

"Skye?"

Again, she snapped herself out of her thoughts, noting with unease that she was daydreaming more and more often. "Yeah," she finally answered, forcing a smile. "You should've seen it OTG, though. It was…breathtaking."

She felt Josh's gaze boring into her. "You don't miss it, do you?"

"Of course not," she spluttered, chuckling in disbelief despite the pounding of her heart in her chest. "What do you think I am? Crazy?"

Silence.

"Well, you haven't been exactly normal since you got back," Josh said, his voice low, quiet.

Skye snapped her head around to glare at him. "What do you think? I was stuck out there with a psycho!" How easily the words slipped past her lips! If not for the regret twisting in her chest, Skye would've believed them.

She tensed as she saw doubt flicker across his face. Josh nodded after a moment however, the doubt quickly dissipating. They were almost to Taylor's house, much to Skye's relief. Her pace picked up slightly. The unease that had been making her skin crawl since she had left Boylan's bar was starting to take its toll. She was ready to lash out at Josh for no reason, ready to shout at him, ready to tell him to go find some other girl to stalk and ogle. Where these thoughts were coming from, she had no idea. She had never felt this much loathing for any one person, except for Lucas initially – but he had threatened her mother, had come across as extremely creepy. Josh had done neither of those things. In the wake of Kara's death, he certainly didn't need such treatment, especially from a friend he trusted.

The fact that he hadn't ditched her after he had found out she had been the Sixer spy was beyond Skye.

They reached the front of Taylor's house. Skye rummaged around in her pocket for the key the Commander had given her earlier that day when he had stopped by to tell her that he would be late returning home. As her hands closed around it, she felt Josh fidget beside, heard him inhale deeply, if not shakily.

"Skye?"

Foreboding slithered down her spine, settled in her stomach. _Don't look up_, she told herself, pulling the key out of her pocket. _Don't look up_.

She dared to meet his gaze.

Skye had known Josh for his hesitancy, for his indecision in the first initial moments of anything. But it wasn't the case as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Skye's, catching her by surprise. His kiss was sloppy, definitely the kiss of an inexperienced boy. He tasted nothing like Lucas, and as he tried to gently slip his tongue into Skye's mouth, she knew nothing would ever be the same.

Skye pushed him away, though she was surprised to find that she didn't shove with any real force. Josh pulled back, confusion and hurt flickering in his pupils. Skye licked her lips, shook her head. A frustrated huff slipped past her lips. Her eyes darted up to meet Josh's, her gaze steely.

"You just lost Kara," she said, startled to hear the hardness in her own voice. She sounded just like the Commander. "And I know you're still trying to cope with that."

"Skye," Josh began, a frown tugging at his lips, "it's not – "

"I really, _really_ don't want to be your bounce-back girl," Skye said. She watched as Josh flinched back, surprised.

"But…" Josh licked his lips, his eyes searching hers, "I like you. I thought you liked me too."

_Not anymore_, Skye thought, but she bit back the words. She sighed, shook her head. "You're a good guy," she finally responded, "but I'm tired of being used."

"I'm not using – "

"Yes, you are." Skye leaned her crutches against the wall, gripped the key tighter in her hand. "You need to get over Kara first. Then you can go and start up a relationship."

Josh took a step back, nodded. "With you?"

Skye swallowed thickly. She scrambled to find a way to say no without hurting his feelings – and without having to explain why she didn't want to have a relationship with him, why she _couldn't_ have a relationship with him. Not anymore.

"Josh, you and I both know that I remind you of Kara," she resorted to saying, though she hated herself for pulling the Kara card. The boy had suffered enough with the death of his girlfriend. Why was she just twisting the knife deeper into his heart? "No matter what, you'll always see a little bit of her in me. You'll never get over her that way – and it isn't fair to me."

The hurt in his face made Skye's heart ache. He nodded, took another step back. "Good night," he muttered.

Skye watched him wander aimlessly down the path until he slipped out of sight. Only then did she open the front door to Taylor's house and step inside, the crutches once again in her hand. Shutting the door behind her, she leaned her head back against the wood, exhaled heavily. As strong as she was, she knew that, over a week ago, saying those words would've brought tears to her eyes. The look on Josh's face would've made her soul wither.

But not then. Her throat didn't so much as tighten. The tears wouldn't come, even though Skye wanted them to – just for her own sake, just to prove that the Skye she was hadn't been entirely lost.

Pushing herself away from the door, she dropped the crutches next to the couch, headed over into the kitchen. Hunger gnawed on her stomach, though regret made her ravenous. She threw together the makings for a sandwich, began to munch on it while she dug out her Plex from her bedroom – Taylor's bedroom, actually – and perused its contents. Though not one to read much, she settled down on the end of the couch and started to read. It wasn't a particularly interesting novel – something about a teenage girl struggling to find herself – but the elements of forbidden romance reminded her of Lucas.

She nearly choked on her food as the realization crossed her mind. After a moment, she laughed harshly, unable to contain herself. Since when had she turned into a lovesick puppy?

An hour and several chapters later, Skye tensed as footsteps echoed outside the door. The door creaked open, revealed Taylor's silhouetted form. Skye relaxed, set her aside her Plex. Nudging the door shut with his heel, the Commander's eyes darted to Skye, met her gaze. He looked away after a moment, his expression unreadable. Skye's eyes followed him as he peeled off his shoulder holster and disappeared into his study. He didn't so much as say hello.

Twenty minutes later, he still hadn't emerged from his study. Skye threw together another sandwich in the kitchen, slowly limped over to the door. Gently rapping it with her knuckle, she pushed the door open without waiting for permission. The room was unnaturally dark, save for the light from Taylor's Plex.

"I made you a sandwich," Skye said, startled by how meek her voice sounded.

Taylor kept his head bent over whatever he was reading. Frowning, Skye hobbled forward, placed the plate on his desk. She pushed it over to him, put it within reach of his hand. He stirred, his eyes darting to the food. She could see hunger flash in his eyes, but he didn't accept the food. Skye shifted uneasily, fidgeted with the bracelet wrapped around her wrist.

"Hey," she said, still as meek as before, "think we can squeeze in a game before bed?"

Silence.

"Taylor?"

He shifted in his seat, but still refused to look at her.

Skye couldn't stop herself. The words came pouring out of her soul, her voice strained, full of frustration and anger and sadness. "I'm sorry," she cried, tears pushing at the back of her eyes. "I know things can't ever be the way they were, but I can't take it anymore! You won't even _look_ at me!"

She took a step forward, snatched the Plex from beneath Taylor's nose. "Look at me!" His head snapped up, anger flashing in his eyes. Skye would've recoiled if not for the emotion that kept her rooted to the spot. "You told me once that I could come to you for anything. I've been trying to talk to you for days, and you keep stonewalling me!" Her voice had grown hoarse, so thick it was with her pent up emotion. She was too livid to notice the flickering in the Commander's eyes.

"My mother might never recover," she continued. Her fingers gripped the Plex tightly, squeezed it so hard that her knuckles went white. "Dr. Shannon and Malcolm haven't made any progress with the cure, and my mother's getting tired. She's been fighting for her life for three years. She could give up any second!" Her whole body started to tremble, her voice reaching a fever pitch. "_You_ are all I have left after that! You. Nobody else. Just you."

Tears blurred her vision then. Wiping at them angrily, Skye dropped the Plex onto Taylor's desk, tried to limp away. She heard movement behind her, no doubt Taylor fixing his Plex. As her hand touched the door of the study, strong arms wrapped around her. A scraggly beard prickled her forehead, Taylor's familiar scent washing over her. Skye let the tears fall, her face burying into his chest. He held her close, held her as all the frustration, the confusion, the guilt – as everything came pouring out, shaking her body with the immensity of it all.

"I'm sorry," she heard him say. "It's okay now. Your mother's here safe and sound, and the Sixers are long gone." His arms tightened around her. "I'm here, Skye. I'm here."

Skye gripped him fiercely, finding solace in his embrace. Things may never be the same, that much she knew, but Taylor had come back. He was still her guardian, and nothing would change that.

Nothing except Lucas.


	27. Promises

**A/N:** Second semester of school is four days away! ACK! I'm scrambling to finish all my homework on top of updating for you guys. Thankfully, I'm at my grandmother's house, where I don't have to worry about setting aside time to spend with my brother – or doing chores. Lol. I'm trying to write/update as much as possible before school starts. I think this story may be longer than I originally planned.

OMG, **Numbersixteen** just updated _Cut Off Without Amends _again – and trust me, you _won't_ be disappointed!

**Pepps**, in response to your question, Skye really doesn't expect to fix things with Taylor by continuously lying. She's just hoping that if she doesn't say anything and if he doesn't find out, everything will be fine. Yes, it's true that she'll most likely screw herself over with everything that's going on, but you'll just have to see what happens, right? xP

**Jill **and **sunshine78**, Skye is really conflicted about Lucas and Josh. If Kara hadn't been in the picture, she and Josh definitely would've had a relationship – but seeing as Josh really cares for his deceased girlfriend, Skye doesn't want to go there, not when he's still struggling to cope. It wouldn't be fair to her if she let him have a relationship with her because she knows that he's just ultimately using her as a way to cope. As for her hostility, it goes back to her conflicted emotions. She's still struggling to figure out everything and decide what she really wants. She still wants to be friends with Josh, though, she's just very lost right now.

**Biscuitneto**, I do, too! :D

By the way, even though we are all hardcore Lucas/Skye shippers, I found this interesting video that ships Lucas and Maddy. Improbable, right? Once you see this video, though, you're jaw will drop. Mine did. This video is brilliantly crafted and flawlessly portrayed. You HAVE to see it, even if you don't ship Lucas/Maddy. It's just that brilliant. Check it out: youtube(.)com/watch?v=KUr5V4t4mLs

* * *

><p>Skye went in early for her shift with Dr. Shannon the next morning, feeling the better about everything than she had in days. Though the dread and foreboding that had plagued her since she had been found in the forest with Lucas, she felt herself significantly more at ease. Even with Bosh flanking her side as her escort to the clinic, she couldn't help but admire the beauty of the crisp December morning. A pterosaur soared overhead, disappeared over the trees beyond the gates. Despite the early hour, colonists were already out and about, eager to get a head start on the fresh new day.<p>

Skye had talked to Taylor after he had finally let her in. She talked about everything – even about Josh – except about Lucas. When it came to talk about her time in the forest with him, she found herself mixing truth with lies, found herself emphasizing the unbearable parts of the journey – mostly her injury and the two dinosaur attacks that had nearly cost them both their lives. Nothing about the feelings Lucas had for her and vice-versa; nothing about their last night together; nothing about their discussions. She played t up that he hadn't spoken much, managed to blame it on his lone wolf personality. Taylor seemed satisfied enough with that.

Leaving Bosh at the front of the clinic as usual, Skye entered in through the back door, her crutches in one hand. Though Dr. Shannon wouldn't like it, she was already striving to regain strength in her ankle, which had thoroughly enjoyed its nine-day rest. It was just a sprain; staying in crutches for weeks wasn't an option, besides.

The clinic was strangely empty. Despite her earliness, Skye was sure somebody other than Dr. Shannon would've already been inside the clinic. Brow furrowing, she shimmied into her lab coat, went over to verify her time card. She paused, stiffening instinctively as voices drifted to her ears. Edging around the corner, she saw Dr. Shannon with Jim, their heads bowed over an empty countertop. Dr. Shannon brought up the screen, drew up some stats. Skye squinted, tried to read the name of the patient profile.

_Skye Alexandria Tate_.

Her heart tripped. Retreating back behind the wall, she cocked her head, straining to hear their quiet conversation.

"I'm bothered, Jim," Dr. Shannon said. "Something's wrong."

Skye heard Jim shift his weight. "What do you mean?"

The screen clicked as Dr. Shannon brought up more information. "Something doesn't match up in Skye's story."

Her heart tripped again, nervous sweat crawling down her spine. Breath caught in her throat, Skye tried to calm herself down. The blood rushing in her ears made it all the more difficult to hear Dr. Shannon continue.

"The day Mark brought her here," she said, her voice just above a whisper, "Skye told me that she had been thrown back by a sonic blast when she was defending herself against a Carnotaurus." More clicking and tapping. "She should've had a bruise pattern, but she was perfectly fine."

"How is that wrong? She could've been lucky. It wasn't like the blast could've bounced off the Carno," Jim said, his voice skeptical. "Depending on how far she was away from the Carno when the blast hit it, she could've come out just fine."

"She made it sound like it was almost on top of her."

"When you're on the edge of life or death, it's hard to keep yourself from over exaggerating what's happening."

Dr. Shannon sighed. "I found some interesting marks and bruises, though."

Skye tensed again, realized that she still wasn't in the clear. She inched closer to the corner, tried to glance at them without getting caught. Dr. Shannon was quickly bringing up Skye's stats from the day she had returned, while Jim peered over her shoulder, his brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"Look," Dr. Shannon said, gesturing to the screen, "you see those around her hips and shoulders? I don't think there's anything out there than can cause those."

Jim's eyes flashed suddenly, his brow furrowing deeper still as he glanced at his wife in surprise. "You think Lucas hurt her?"

"Knowing him," Dr. Shannon replied, her voice low, her words careful, "I wouldn't put it past him."

Skye saw Jim's adam's apple bob as he swallowed, another shadow flickering across his face. "You don't think he…" His eyes conveyed more than his words could.

"I could prove it if I do a complete scan." Her voice was uncertain, a hint of repulsion underlying her words as the same look flickered across her own face. "I don't think Skye would let me do it, though. If she hasn't said anything yet, she probably won't. The poor thing is probably traumatized."

Jim nodded, passed a hand over his face. "Don't tell Taylor about this. Not until he gets his head on straight, at least." He leaned over, pressed a quick kiss on his wife's lips. "I'll see you later."

He headed out the front door, a mix of suspicion and horror flitting over his face. Skye hurried to the back door, opened and closed it loudly. She barely had a chance to tuck the crutches beneath her armpits before Dr. Shannon rounded the corner, her face barely concealing her concern. Skye forced a smile, hauled herself forward.

"Good morning," she said, smiling as sweetly as possible.

"Morning." Dr. Shannon's eyebrows arched. "You're already in your coat. That was fast."

Skye glanced down at the white lab coat, cursed herself inwardly at her stupidity. She nodded, scrambled to find an answer. "I'm early, too," she pointed out, changing the topic.

"Yes, you are." Skye caught the look of suspicion in the woman's eye before she turned away. "That's good, actually. You have a lot to do today, I'm afraid."

Skye breathed a sigh of relief even as she muttered, "Ugh. More inventory."

The beauty in the day had disappeared the moment Skye had overheard the Shannons' conversation. The hours passed by in agonizing slowness, sapping away all of Skye's patience. Because of her foot, Dr. Shannon had her filing, cataloging, and canvassing all their supplies – and they had a _lot_. It had taken three days just to work through the first quarter of the inventory. Skye feared that she'd never finish with the task, even though she was working as quickly and efficiently as possible. Then again, she never had much patience for that kind of work anyway. Coupled with her anxiety over that morning, she found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the task at hand.

Malcolm had stopped by again. Skye wondered what Jim thought about the whole thing. Malcolm obviously still had feelings for his fellow colleague, but Jim had staked his claim well enough – not to mention he had three kids to seal the bond, assuming Dr. Shannon wasn't the type to stray. Glancing at her now, Skye was sure that Malcolm was just another poor soul who suffered from unrequited love.

The end of her shift couldn't come fast enough. The second it was over, Skye tore off her lab coat, told Dr. Shannon she was leaving. A flicker of concern and mild suspicion passed over the woman's face, but she nodded and sent Skye off with a warm smile that reminded Skye of most doctors' bedside manners.

Hauling herself on her crutches out the door, she beckoned to Bosh, feigned a grimace. "I'm not feeling well," she said, trying her best to look as dreadful as ever. "Can you tell Boylan I won't make it 'til later?"

The soldier shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between Skye and the Terra Nova Command Compound. Skye reached out, placed a reassuring hand on the soldier's arm, drew his attention away from the tower. "I'm going home to sleep for a few hours," she lied. "If you're that worried, you can tell Taylor where I am and see what he says."

Bosh seemed satisfied with that. He hurried up the steps to the Commander's office and disappeared inside, leaving Skye alone. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, bit her lip as she glanced around. Her eyes settled on the brig in the distance. She could almost hardly see it from where she stood, but it was nevertheless there, waiting for her. She wondered what Lucas was doing, wondered whether he was awake or sleeping. He was probably awake, although he had such a clear conscience that he probably _could_ sleep without having a problem.

Skye, on the other hand, hadn't slept well since she returned to Terra Nova. Even the night before, after she had reconciled with Taylor, she still hadn't slept well. Her dreams put her ill at ease – images of screaming and yelling and gunfire, of Taylor's face twisted into rage and grief and disappointment, of Lucas's eyes burning with fury and hate and bloodlust. They made her whimper in her sleep, made her wake up in a cold sweat. It was a miracle she didn't disturb Taylor's sleep with her tossing and turning; if she did, he just stayed still on the couch, listening.

Bosh reappeared at the head of the stairs. Hurrying down the steps with military precision, he approached Skye. "The Commander said it was alright," he told her. "I'm supposed to escort you to the house."

Skye nodded, headed off in the direction of the Taylor's house. "Will you be staying with me?"

The soldier shook his head. "The Commander said I could take the rest of the day off."

"You've been working hard," Skye agreed. She couldn't help but let the ghost of a smirk twitch at the corners of her lips. "It must be so boring keeping an eye on me."

Bosh's eyes flickered, but he refrained from answering. Skye hauled herself forward at a rather fast pace, her injured foot touching the ground more than once to propel her faster. She wanted to shake Bosh as soon as she could.

"Don't forget to tell Boylan I'll be a little late," she reminded the soldier as she approached the door of Taylor's house, key in hand. "I don't know how long. An hour, probably."

The soldier nodded. He disappeared off in the direction of Boylan's bar the moment Skye closed the door behind her. Watching him go, she waited until he vanished from view before setting aside her crutches. Hurrying to the kitchen, she threw together a small dish of food, tucked it beneath her jacket. She locked the front door, made up her bed in case somebody stopped by to check up on her. Casting one last glance at the house, she slipped out the back door, headed for the brig.

Most of the colonists had begun to focus on the preparations for the Festival, which was only two days away. The eggnog was brewing in the houses, particularly Boylan's bar – it was his Christmas special – and decorations were being hoisted upon the towers and the gate itself. The way that Skye took circled around all the hubbub. Once again, she found herself darting between houses until she reached the brig.

The same soldier guarded the door. Skye leaned her head back against the wall, squeezed her eyes shut. He had believed her the first time, but would he fall for it again? She doubted it. As dumb as he looked, he would notice something suspicious when she hadn't been around in the past few days. When he looked away, Skye circled around to the back of the brig. It nearly pressed up against the gate, much to her chagrin. If Taylor caught her, he would think she was trying to escape to the Sixers or something. The man was as paranoid as she was at the moment.

It took her a few minutes to find what she was looking for. Parting the tall grasses that grew around the area, Skye glanced around once more before she tugged at the grate. Slipping into it, she pulled the grate back over her head, watched as the grasses immediately sprung back to their original positions. Hoping that no one saw her, she shimmied further into the shaft.

It was much larger than she expected. A grown man weighing over two hundred pounds could easily maneuver within the conduit. It would be a piece of cake for Lucas to crawl through it to freedom, especially with the gate so close. If he escaped in the middle of the night, nobody would notice. He would've vanished into thin air, as if he'd never been a prisoner in the first place.

The realization both excited and saddened Skye.

A smaller grate loomed ahead of her, revealing the poorly lit holding facility. Kicking at it with her feet, Skye was surprised to feel it give way easily. It swung out on well oiled hinges, tapped against the ceiling. Positioning herself so that she wouldn't fall on her injured foot, Skye swung her legs over, dropped down to the brig's metal floor.

"Lucas," she whispered, squinting into the darkness. "I brought food."

He materialized out of the darkness, surprise and happiness flashing in his eyes. He hurried forward, embraced her tightly. The dish nearly clattered to the floor as Skye gripped him back, a surge of calm washing over her in that moment. Just smelling him was enough to send a shiver of excitement rolling through her. She still hadn't decided whether she was reacting to being with Lucas or just reveling in the adrenaline rush of breaking the rules once again. Whatever it was, she didn't think too hard about it.

Lucas pulled back enough to press his lips to hers. Compared to Josh, his lips were honey, his tongue well versed in the art of pleasure. Skye kissed him back with equal fervor, relishing his taste, his touch. Her hands reached up to his face, brushed over his prickly cheeks. She pulled away, smirked.

"You're scruffy," she murmured, passing her hand over the stubble that was starting to grow into a beard.

A low chuckle slipped past Lucas's lips, though his eyes betrayed the lack of amusement he felt. "They aren't exactly going to lend me a razor. My father isn't stupid."

"I think that's the best thing you've ever said about Taylor."

His eyes darted to hers. Skye found she couldn't read the expression in his pupils. Pressing the dish of food into his hands, she turned away, led him over to sit down up against the far wall. The front door was in the corner of their vision, but anyone who stepped through it would have trouble seeing them right away. Lucas kept an arm around Skye's shoulders as he munched on the fruit she had brought, as if afraid to let go of her. She didn't mind too much, though. It reminded her of how he had carried her in the forest after she had hurt her ankle.

"How did you get in here?" Lucas asked. "You didn't come in through the door."

"Wow, you really _are_ a genius," Skye said, unable to keep the sarcasm from coming through. She chuckled. "Sorry. I found a shaft that leads here. I think it was built so people down here wouldn't suffocate."

Setting aside the remains of the fruit and picking up a heel of bread, Lucas noted, "It can't have been very big. How did you fit?"

Skye glanced away, fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist. "It was a tight squeeze, but I made it, didn't I?"

Silence but for the sounds of Lucas eating. He had only been in the brig for just over a week, but having only one meal a day had already begun to take its toll. There was a gauntness to his face that hadn't been there when Skye had last seen him. Dark circles ringed his eyes, though he assured her that he had been sleeping well enough when she brought it up.

"Don't worry," he told her again, "I'm fine. I know what it feels like to starve." He met her concerned gaze. "I'm not even close to starving yet."

He set aside the dish after a while, though a good portion of the food still remained. When Skye protested, he shook his head. "I'm saving it for later," he told her before he pressed his lips to hers again.

She let the sensations sweep her away, the unease she had felt finally leaving her. Lucas's hands drew her close, traveled down her body. When his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her jeans, Skye pulled back, shook her head. Lucas frowned, his eyes flashing for just a moment.

"It's too dangerous," Skye explained. "The guard outside will hear us."

Lucas laughed. "This is the brig. You think these walls are five feet thick for nothing?"

Skye shook her head. "I have to leave soon. Boylan's expecting me."

He grunted in frustration, though his fingers pulled away from her pants and settled on her lower back instead. He kissed her again, trailed kisses down her jaw before burying his face in the curve of her neck. He kissed the sensitive spot there, nibbled on the flesh. Skye's head rolled back, her eyes fluttering close as a quiet sigh of pleasure slipped past her lips.

"Taylor finally talked to me," she suddenly said.

Lucas paused, his lips hovering above her flesh. His breath rolled over her skin, made goosebumps prickle across her collarbone. "What did he say?"

"Not a lot," Skye admitted, "but he's forgiven me."

He nodded, pulled away to look her directly in the face. "What did you do?"

A frown tugged at Skye's lips, her brow furrowing. "I cried."

A harsh chuckle emanated from Lucas's throat. "Yeah, that seems to work with my father."

Skye glanced at her watch, sighed. Passing a hand over her face, she looked back at Lucas, met his saddened gaze. "I have to go," she whispered. "I'll see you soon."

As she stood to her feet, Lucas followed her. "How soon?"

She shrugged, reached up to hook her fingers on the edge of the air shaft. "As soon as I can," she promised.

He pulled her to him once more, his hands crushing her as close as possible. His tongue sought hers out, pushed deep into her throat. Kissing back just as fiercely, it was nevertheless Skye who broke away first. She forced a sad smile, patted Lucas's scruffy cheek. He pressed his head into her hand, his eyes fluttering close for just a moment. It pained Skye to pull back. He helped her up into the unit, reached up and pulled the grate shut behind her. His face peered at her through the bars.

"I'll be back," Skye promised again. "Don't do anything stupid."

Lucas grinned. "I'm a genius. How is that possible?"

Skye smirked back, forced herself to shimmy back to the grate outside. Pushing it back open with both hands, she glanced around before hoisting herself up out of the hole. She was quick to close it and cover it up before darting out from behind the brig. The guard didn't so much as shift uncomfortably from his position, his face yet again unreadable.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Skye brushed the dust off her shirt and started off towards Boylan's bar. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, but she assured herself that she'd eat when she got to the bar. Boylan would understand if she nipped something from his fridge. If he didn't, she'd pay for it later – like she always did back when things were normal.

"Skye! Aren't you supposed to be in the infirmary?"

She froze, recognizing Jim's voice. She slowly turned around, managed a weak smile. "Actually, I'm headed to Boylan's bar for my second job."

Jim nodded, glanced down at his watch. "Aren't you late?"

"I wasn't feeling good. I went back home and crashed for a while." Skye forced another smile, shrugged.

"Uh-huh." He didn't sound at all convinced; his eyebrows knit together slightly, that familiar cop face settling over his features.

"Just ask Bosh," Skye said, struggling to keep herself from fidgeting beneath his gaze. After a moment, Jim nodded. Suppressing a sigh of relief, Skye pointed in the bar's general direction. "I better get going."

She had only walked a few steps before Jim's voice stopped her.

"Skye, wait a minute." He walked over to her, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "Elizabeth is bringing home Xiphkabobs for dinner tonight. Would you like to have some with us?"

Skye bit her lip. "As much as I'd like to," she lied, though her stomach yearned for some Xiphkabobs, "I'm not sure. Boylan might have me work late again."

"Don't worry, I'll talk to him," Jim assured her. "I'll have Josh bring you at seven."

With no other alternative, Skye nodded and hurried away before Jim thought of anything else to say. She glanced over her shoulder once to look at Jim's retreating back. A chill shot down her spine. He looked like he was heading towards the brig.

_You're just paranoid_, Skye told herself, turning away. She still couldn't shake the unease that constricted her chest.


	28. Questions

**A/N:** Just to clarify again, Bosh is a soldier – it's _not_ me spelling Josh's name incorrectly. If you would all like, I could change the spelling of Bosh's name to something like Bosche or Bausche – something like that.

**Cosugimmebutterflies**, thank you so much for your review! I don't mind the long-windedness at all. I rather enjoyed reading it. It really made my day, believe me!

**Sunshine78**, thank you for the correction! I was so tired I missed it when I reread the chapter. *facepalm*

**Jemmz**, you're very welcome! I'm glad I am helping you ship your guilty pairing. Lol. You shouldn't be discouraged from writing a ficlet about Lucas/Skye! My writing really isn't that good. I'm sure you have a wonderful idea that all of us would love to see written!

**Wren Maxwell**, hahaha, everybody would've liked that, huh? I did that on purpose – I'm the kind of writing that likes to write something, get everybody excited, and then go, "Just kidding!" xP

**Unleash Your Inner Mind**, no worries. At least you managed to read and review now! It would've been terrible if you had been deprived for weeks. I bet the suspense was killing you! Lol, too bad I don't speak Bulgarian.

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><p>Still wishing Skye with there with him, Lucas sat back down in the corner, faced the door. He leaned his head back against the wall, let his eyes flutter close. He wanted to hold Skye in his arms again, wanted to feel her breath, wanted to hear her moan, wanted to make love to her again and again and again. Seeing her was almost as painful as not seeing her, only because he knew she'd have to leave at some point. He knew that she couldn't just stay, but a big part of him wanted to kick and yell and punch something in response. He wanted her to stay with him forever.<p>

He almost didn't hear the footsteps. Straightening, he pushed himself further into the corner, almost sure it was his father. The door swung open, revealing nothing but a silhouette. It closed behind his visitor as soon as he stepped over the threshold. Lucas relaxed, but only slightly. He leaned his head back against the wall, let his eyes close again.

"Shannon," he said, startling Jim, "what a pleasant surprise. I'd offer you a seat, but I'm afraid they aren't very comfortable." He opened his eyes, stared at the cop. "I'm sorry I can't be more…hospitable."

_No appreciation for humor_, Lucas noted dryly, watching as Jim slowly stepped into the brig and approached him.

His chest tightened as he realized how close Skye had been caught. If she had stayed in the brig a few minutes longer, the cop would've walked in and seen her. Then everything would've gone to hell – not that it wasn't already there, of course. Lucas swallowed thickly, still followed Jim with his eyes.

Something seemed different about the cop, something Lucas couldn't place. A dark shadow had come over the man's face, accentuated by the deep furrow in his brow. Lucas could see the gears turning behind the man's eyes, could see the flicker of confusion and suspicion within his pupils. The man was obviously troubled by something, something that had drawn him to the brig. The icy finger of dread trickled down Lucas's spine as Jim finally stopped a few feet away from him.

The cop's gaze settled on Lucas for a moment before darting to the side. Following his gaze, Lucas cursed himself inwardly. The dish Skye had brought still remained there, only a portion of it eaten. Suspicion flickered in Jim's eyes once again, this time more pronounced than before. Lucas met his gaze levelly.

"It's leftovers," he lied, the words coming to him readily. "I have to ration it out because I only get one meal." His voice had picked up a steely edge.

"Looks fresh," Jim muttered.

Lucas forced a smirk. "Lucky me. Seems I'm working my way up to the royal treatment."

Again, his sarcasm went by unacknowledged. Pushing the dish further into the darkness to keep the cop from asking more questions, Lucas cocked his head, jade green eyes searching Jim's face.

"Why are you really here?" he asked. "Something _bothering_ you, Shannon?"

The cop finally met his gaze then. His features hardened, the lines in his face deepening in response. "What did you do to Skye?"

Lucas's eyebrows arched, though his heart skipped a beat. "What did I do?" He inhaled deeply, smirked. "I showed her the sights. Since my father doesn't let anyone outside the gates, I figured she hadn't seen what this place is really like."

"That's not what I'm talking about." Jim stepped forward, eyes flashing. "You hurt Skye."

Lucas's brow furrowed, his face darkening. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"She has bruises," the cop explained, "on her shoulders and hips. Nothing out there would've done that to her."

As the realization dawned, Lucas's heart tripped, bounced against his ribs. He shook his head, managed to shrug despite the wave of dread that washed over him. "I don't know what you're talking about," he repeated, his voice surprisingly steady.

Jim pulled back, passed a hand over his face as he paced away from Lucas. Lucas watched him from his seat, refusing to say anything in case he gave himself away. He hadn't hurt Skye, not since he had promised he wouldn't ever again. The bruises, he knew, were from their intense lovemaking. He had similar bruises patterned across his body, along with healing scratches on his back where Skye had unintentionally clawed him in the moments of her passionate climaxes. Not that Jim knew that, of course, but Lucas wasn't willing to take his chances.

"Did you rape her?" Jim suddenly asked, turning back to Lucas. The dismay in his features sent a wave of unease rolling through Lucas again. Why the man was so concerned was beyond him.

It took Lucas a moment to find his voice. "No," he answered, his voice hard. "I'm not _that_ demented."

"I don't believe you." Jim strode over to Lucas, pulled him up by the front of his shirt. "You killed Lieutenant Washington. How's _that_ for demented?"

Lucas wrenched himself free from the cop's grasp, the ugly dragon of fury rearing its head in his chest. He struggled to remain in control of himself, tried to focus on the memory of Skye laying beside him, of Skye telling him that she didn't believe he could change. Taking a step back, he held his hands up in submission, passed a hand over his face.

"Did you rape her?" Jim repeated, his eyes flashing dangerously once again.

Lucas met his gaze. "No."

"Give me one good reason why I should believe you."

He shrugged, returned to his seat in the corner. "Even if I did, you wouldn't believe me."

He watched as the cop turned away, watched as he paced away once again to recompose himself. Lucas had seen the look on Jim's face, had seen the way the lines around the man's mouth had tightened before he pivoted sharply on his heel. Lucas had hit straight home, had guessed right once again – and the cop wasn't pleased with it. If not for the unease still churning within him, Lucas would've smirked. He found his facial muscles too weighed down by dread to smile.

The click of Jim's shoes echoed around the vast, empty chamber. Lucas kept his eyes trained on the cop as he continued to pace. He read the confusion and the unease and the suspicion well enough on Jim's face, knew that the man was far from convinced. To think that he thought Lucas had raped Skye! The thought sickened Lucas, made him want to punch Jim in the face for thinking of such a horrific thing. As psychotic as everybody claimed Lucas to be, he wouldn't go so far as to rape Skye. Never Skye.

"Does my father know?" he heard himself ask.

Jim paused in his pacing, glanced over at Lucas. "No."

A wave of relief replaced the unease in Lucas's chest. He nodded, massaged an eyebrow. "Why haven't you told him?"

"Because I'm not sure." The cop sighed, the frustration evident in his voice. "Taylor will kill you if he ever finds out."

The anger returned to Lucas's voice. "There's nothing _to_ find out, Shannon. I didn't rape her. End of story."

"Then what are those bruises?" Jim strode back over, his face as hard as his voice. "How else could she have gotten those bruises?"

Lucas's ingenious mind kicked into overtime. "We fell into rapids," he hissed, jumping to his feet." It was a miracle Skye and I survived at all. I had been carrying her because she had hurt her ankle. When we fell into the rapids, I tried to hold onto her."

Jim's eyes shone with disbelief. "And that created the bruises?"

"Have you ever been in rapids?" Lucas didn't wait for an answer. "Of course not. Those things can kill you. The water ripped her away from me and knocked us back together too many times to count." He stepped forward, stood just inches away from Jim's face. "When you're trying to grab somebody in those waters," he said, his voice barely controlled, "you tend to grab onto them for dear life, especially if you're panicking."

Skepticism washed over the cop's features. "You could've let her die."

"But I didn't," Lucas snapped.

Jim's brow furrowed, eyebrows knitting together in suspicion. The steel edge left his voice, replaced by curiosity. "Why didn't you kill her?" he asked, his eyes searching Lucas's. "She betrayed you twice and _shot_ you twice. You had every reason to do it."

The question almost caught Lucas off guard. Almost. "I needed her," he answered, eyes unblinking as he met the cop's gaze levelly.

Jim's eyebrows arched. "Needed her for what, exactly?"

_Everything_, Lucas thought, but he kept the word from leaving his lips. Drawing himself up, he turned his back to the cop, sat back down in his corner. He picked up one of the fruit Skye had brought him, took a bite out of it. The juices dripped down his chin.

"That," he finally said, glancing up at Jim with dark eyes, "is none of your business."

Frustration replaced the suspicion in the cop's face. "Does it have to do with the Badlands?"

Lucas shrugged, took another bite of the fruit. He kept quiet, didn't even bother to look at Jim despite the tension in the air. The cop repeated the question, failed to receive an answer. In a manner similar to his initial interrogation, the cop grilled Lucas for answers, found himself stonewalled again and again by Lucas's silence. Lucas had nearly finished the large fruit by the time Jim passed a hand over his face, sighed, and headed for the door.

"Shannon," he called just as Jim reached the threshold, "can you give my father a message?"

The cop stopped, his back facing Lucas. Lucas waited until Jim glanced over his shoulder at him. He found the words were almost too difficult to say, as if they had suddenly lodged in his throat. He stared down at the remainder of the fruit left in his hand, watched as the juices dribbled over his fingers.

"Tell him," he began, trailing off. He swallowed thickly, refused to look up from the fruit. "Tell him things would've been different if he had just accepted me."

Silence.

The door slid open and closed shut a few seconds later, though Lucas didn't look up to see Jim leave. He heard the footsteps retreating, listened to them as they grew fainter and fainter until he could no longer hear them. Sighing, Lucas leaned his head back against the wall, swallowed the last of the fruit in his hand. Sleep did not come easy that day, but when it did, he dreamed of Skye and little Lucas Taylors.

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><p>P.S. Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, gah! It wasn't supposed to be a long scene, since Jim really only had one thing that was really bothering him.<p> 


	29. Dinner

**A/N: **Wow, I didn't expect such a response from my previous chapter! To be honest, I added that line at the end just before I uploaded the chapter. It wasn't in my original Word document.

**RISNA**, yes, it's _extremely_ difficult for me to picture Lucas reconciling with his father. In fact, in my opinion, it's downright impossible, but I'm working through as many scenarios in my head as possible to try and figure out _some_ way that it can happen. I'm not all that confident, though. As much as I've thought out this story, that's one thing that I'm a bit worried about figuring out. It won't be easy, I'll tell you that. As for song recommendations, I really don't know. I haven't seen any new Lucas/Skye videos. However, the Lucas/Skye thread that **Anjelia** created on Fan Forum actually has a long list of songs that people think go well with the forbidden couple. I'm sure that if you checked it out, you'd find something to add to your Luky list. Loving the name, by the way. Lol.

**Kristine D**, the same thought crossed my mind. It's a bit…daunting to consider what would happen if they were to have kids. I really don't think it would work out. Taylor wouldn't necessarily banish Skye because he wouldn't want to put the innocent kids in jeopardy, but he would never look at her the same, and I'm sure they'd probably ruin her. And living the forest is no life for these kids, not when Skye and Lucas have no idea what they're doing.

**Jill**, you're absolutely right – Taylor would be one BAMF of a granddad. I would definitely not mind having him be one of my grandfathers.

**Cosumgimmebutterflies** and **Arpie**, your reviews made my day!

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><p>Time flew by too quickly, unlike that morning. Skye didn't dare look at the clock, knowing that seven o'clock was rapidly approaching. Dread churned in her stomach, sending her nervous chills down her spine. As her shift came to an end, the tremors intensified until she was sure her entire insides would puddle out of her onto the floor. Clammy hands prevented her from doing much as she catered to Boylan's customers.<p>

Minutes before Josh was supposed to take her over to his home, Boylan appeared by Skye's side. "I want to talk to you," he said, his voice quieter than Skye would've liked.

Skye's eyes darted to the watch on her wrist. "I have to be at the Shannon's house – "

"I know," Boylan said, grabbing her elbow, "but you can wait a minute."

With the dread intensifying in her stomach, she followed Boylan up the stairs to his office above the entire bar. Papers lay strewn about on his desk, remnants of his attempts at accounting. She had heard that Maddy Shannon had offered to help Boylan with it, but when he had found out that Jim was her father, he had kept her away from his desk and sent her off, no doubt because he didn't want her to notice the proceeds he received from his gambling business that he sometimes ran in the bar. Normally, Skye would've smiled at the thought of Boylan all flustered, but she found it too difficult to feel anything but anxiety.

Boylan turned to her when they were safely out of everyone's hearing. "So what really happened out there with Taylor's son?"

Skye's brow furrowed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, Skye." Boylan shook his head, smirked. "I'm not stupid."

She managed to quirk one eyebrow. "I'm sure there are a lot of people that can say otherwise."

He glared at her but refrained from retorting. "Commander Taylor and Jim Shannon aren't stupid either," he said instead, circling around his desk to look down at his paperwork. His eyes darted up to meet hers. "I'm sure Jim will ask you the same question."

Skye fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist, glanced over her shoulder. "Nothing happened."

"A professional liar," Boylan said, all traces of a smirk gone from his face, "knows when somebody's lying."

She met his inquisitive, knowing gaze. "I was stuck out there with a psycho. I don't exactly want to remember what happened."

"Can't have been all that bad." Boylan's eyebrows arched. "You met a couple of dinos, practically starved to death – doesn't seem like anything too terrifying."

Skye's brow furrowed, her eyes flashing. "What are you trying to say, Boylan?"

He held his hands up, shrugged. "I'm not saying anything. It's what everybody else will be saying after Taylor finds out."

Her heart tripped against her chest. Hands clenching into fists, the flesh cold and clammy, Skye swallowed thickly, said as levelly as she could, "After Taylor finds out about what?"

Boylan glanced up from his papers. "You tell me."

"Nothing happened," Skye repeated, her voice as stern as she could make it. A sense of déjà vu nagged at the back of her mind as she flashed back to the debriefing with Taylor.

He glanced back down at his papers, shook his head. "Whatever you say."

Despite her unease, Skye wanted to press him for answers. As a question came to her lips, Josh appeared at the top of the stairs. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Casting one last glance at Boylan, Skye nodded. "Yeah, I'm ready."

As she followed Josh down the stairs, she felt Boylan's eyes boring into her back. She shivered, her chest constricting at the thought of Boylan figuring things out. Then again, he had his methods – but the only way he could've figured anything out was through Lucas, and nobody had been to see him in days, especially some questionable bar owner who was still on Taylor's list of suspects. Her mind raced with possibilities as she picked up her crutches and hauled herself out the door, Josh flanking her side.

The sun had set an hour before, plunging the world around them into darkness as it always did. Torches and lights had been erected everywhere, though a majority of the light came from the huge Christmas display nearby. It was nearly completed, considering that the festival was hardly a day away. Skye was scheduled to work up until six the next day, which was when the bar would close up for an hour while the festivities kicked off. She was sure that Boylan would have her resume work after the hour was up, only because the bar would be packed with off duty soldiers. With the Sixers and the Phoenix Group long gone to the Badlands, they really didn't have anything to worry about except for dinosaurs.

As they walked to the Shannon's home, the wind tickling her cheeks, Skye couldn't help but notice Josh's silence. She glanced at him, saw a distant look in his eyes. There were lines in his face she hadn't seen before, lines that the flickering bonfires accentuated. It seemed as though he had aged a few years since Kara's death. A pang of guilt ached in Skye's chest. She thought back to the night before, recalled her harsh words. She had been rather hostile to Josh since her return. She knew he didn't deserve it, not when he had only been trying to help her and understand what was going on. She had hardly spoken to him since her return, too, and she found herself missing their conversations.

"Hey," she suddenly said, gently tugging on Josh's elbow, "I'm…sorry about the other night. You didn't deserve it."

Josh snapped out of his thoughts, glanced at her. "You were right, though." His hand came up instinctively to the necklace around his neck; he fingered the guitar pick. "I miss her," he whispered.

"It's terrible," Skye began, choosing her words carefully, "when you lose somebody you love."

He sighed, his eyes growing distant again. "It's my fault."

She shook her head fiercely, grabbed his shoulder, forced him to look at her. "Don't _ever_ think it's your fault. You'll only hurt yourself doing that."

"I should be dead instead of her – "

"And then your whole family would suffer!" Skye let go of him, passed a hand over her face. "What good would that do for Kara? She'd be in the same position as you are right now." As memories of her father flashed in her mind, she stopped walking, rubbed her eyes wearily. "All you can do is keep her memory alive." She sighed. "Trust me, I know."

Josh nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes. Skye offered him a weak smile, placed a hand on his shoulder. "I've been a real jerk since I got back, and I'm sorry for that."

He nodded again, a weak smile touching his lips in return. "I'm still here if you need to talk."

Skye shook her head, resumed walking. "There's not much to talk about," she said. "Taylor finally forgave me."

"He did?" Josh's face visibly lightened, his grief put aside momentarily. "What did you do?"

Skye's thoughts flashed to the look in Lucas's face when she had told him the same thing, his words asking the same question as Josh. She shook the memory from her head. "I cried," she answered. "Well, I didn't just, you know, start bawling or anything. I, um…" She smirked, shook her head. "I yelled at him."

Josh's eyebrows arched in disbelief. "And he didn't kill you?"

"Nope." A quiet chuckle slipped past her lips. "He looked like he wanted to, though."

It felt good to laugh and talk so freely again, especially with Josh. Skye hoped that her apology had mended the rift that she had created since her "rescue" from Lucas. With everything that happened, she didn't want to lose one of her friends – just as much as she hadn't wanted to lose Taylor. She had the feeling that, in the end, that was all she would have left.

When they reached Josh's home, Skye was greeted by the familiar friendly face of Dr. Shannon, all traces of suspicion and horror gone from her face. Maddy waved at her from the table where she was setting things up, while Zoe bounced out of her room and gave her a wide, gap-toothed smile. Jim emerged from somewhere within the house, his face even more troubled than it had been when Skye saw it last. Smiling nevertheless, she tried to make conversation.

Mark Reynolds appeared at the door not too long after. Maddy hugged him, though she avoided giving him a kiss in front of her family. Skye couldn't help but smile. She could only imagine what her father would've done if he had seen her kiss some guy. The thought, as it crossed her mind, threatened to dampen her spirit, which had improved since her reconciliation with Josh. Shaking it from her mind, she sat down at the table with the rest of the family and dug into the Xiphkabobs.

"I get to be Commander Taylor again in the play," Zoe told her, smiling even wider than before. "We're going to use the beard we used last time."

"I'm in charge of the whole thing again," Maddy added. "I don't mind, but it's a bit of a hassle. I mean, it's so much work getting the kids to remember what they're supposed to do and say."

Dr. Shannon grinned. "But you love it," she pointed out. Maddy nodded, smirking as her eyes rolled over to Mark. Though he had mildly relaxed, he still maintained some of his military precision, no doubt worrying about Jim's opinion. Again, Skye smirked.

"So, tell me, Skye," Dr. Shannon said, glancing over at her, "what are you planning on doing tomorrow?"

"Working," Skye groaned, rolling her eyes. "Boylan has me working almost all day."

A collective cry of pity rippled through the members at the table. Dr. Shannon's brow furrowed. "I'm sure Boylan will give you a break, won't he?"

Skye shrugged. "The bar closes down for an hour while the play and stuff is going on for the festival, but he reopens it right away because the soldiers like his eggnog."

Mark nodded, his lips splitting into a sheepish grin. "It's really good." The smile dropped off his face in an instant as he met Jim's questioning gaze. "That's what I've heard, at least."

It had been a long time since Skye had eaten dinner with anyone other than Commander Taylor. She hadn't realized how much she missed the family dinners she used to have with her mother and father before the Syncillic Fever got to them. Though they had only been a party of three, they had always made huge conversation that had everybody laughing and choking on their food. A sad smile touched Skye's lips as she finished off the last of her Xiphkabobs. Pushing her plate aside, she smiled at Dr. Shannon.

"The meal was great," she said. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." Dr. Shannon's warm smile stretched across her face. "You're always welcome at our dinner table."

_Not if you knew_, Skye couldn't but think, but she nodded and managed to keep the smile on her face all the same.

Dinner ended quickly, but the conversation and laughter continued on for almost an hour. Skye found herself sitting back rather than contributing, feeling a bit out of place among the family. Maddy more than once spouted off information relating to some subject brought up at the table, wowing Mark for the millionth time, from what Skye could tell. He grinned and stared at her, eyes full of wonder and admiration. Skye's chest constricted as she saw the emotions flitting across his face, saw them reciprocated in Maddy's eyes. It almost didn't seem fair that Skye couldn't do the same thing.

At nine o'clock, Skye stood up. "I should get going," she said. "Thank you for the great dinner."

Jim was quick to get up from his chair. "I'll walk you home."

The unease and dread that had disappeared sometime during the dinner suddenly gripped Skye's heart. She smiled and nodded as she hugged Josh good-bye, thanked Dr. Shannon a third time, and gathered up her jacket and crutches. The room had grown incredibly warm; feeling the cold night air nip her skin was a refreshing change.

Jim stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked beside her. Skye struggled to keep herself from glancing at him, her heart rate beginning to jump as the silence stretched between them. A dark look flickered once again flickered over his features. As preoccupied as he seemed, Skye couldn't help but get the feeling that he was unsure of what to say. He glanced at her for a moment, glanced away the next. Indecision marked itself deep into his features, reminding Skye of Josh.

"Skye," he said, his voice quiet, "what happened out there with Lucas?"

Even as her heart tripped in her chest, Skye almost wanted to laugh out loud. Boylan obviously knew more than Jim did, but the fact that they had both asked the same question in the same day was both ironic and frightening. Swallowing thickly, Skye shook her head.

"I don't understand," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

"It's alright," Jim assured her. "You can tell me."

_Not really_. Skye readjusted her grip on the crutches, her palms growing clammy again. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He pursed his lips, rubbed his jaw. "Elizabeth," he began after a few minutes of painful silence, "pointed out some things that don't add up."

Skye's throat constricted. "What do you mean?"

"Just some bruising," Jim answered, glancing down at her. "There are some bruises on your shoulders and hips that shouldn't be there."

Her brow furrowed despite the panic she felt unfurling in her stomach. "I – I didn't notice."

They stopped in front of Taylor's house. Jim stood in front of the door, preventing Skye from opening it. His eyes were filled to the brim with concern, though Skye could see suspicion clouding over his features at her evasiveness. She found it difficult to swallow; her stomach churned so much she was sure the wonderful Xiphkabob dinner was going to end up on Jim's shoes.

Jim sighed, passed a hand over his face. His discomfort was evident in his face. "Did Lucas rape you?"

The question would've caught Skye off guard if she hadn't heard his conversation with his wife earlier that morning. "Rape me?" she asked, her voice nevertheless quivering. "No, he didn't."

"Are you sure?" Jim leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You can tell me, Skye. It's alright."

"He didn't rape me," she told him, amazed that she could still talk despite the pounding in her chest. "He didn't touch me."

They were the wrong words to say. The suspicion, which had disappeared for just a moment, came flooding back into Jim's face, clouding over his features. Skye fought back the nausea pushing at the back of her throat. Forcing a regretful smile, she fished the key out of her pocket.

"It's cold out here," she lied, passing off her shivers of unease for the body's natural response to losing body heat. "Um, thanks for inviting me for dinner, Mr. Shannon. I really enjoyed it."

Jim looked like he wanted to say something more, but nothing came out of his mouth. Nodding, he stepped aside, allowing access to the door. "You're welcome," he said.

Though the suspicion hadn't left his face, Skye felt she was safe at that moment. As she pushed open the door, however, a "Good night" on her lips, Jim's hand touched her shoulder, drawing her attention to him.

"You can tell me anything," he told her, his eyes begging her. "Just know that."

Skye nodded. "Good night, Mr. Shannon."

She didn't stick around to see him leave. Stepping into Taylor's home, she quickly shut the door behind her. A sigh of relief passed her lips, the tremors wracking her body subsiding. Running a hand through her hair, she wandered into her bedroom, dropped down onto the bed. She heard Taylor come out of his study, heard his footsteps across the wooden floor.

"Did you enjoy your dinner?" she heard him ask.

"Yeah," she answered, rolling onto her back. She glanced at him, saw him standing in the doorway. "We had Xiphkabobs."

Taylor smiled. "Sounds good." He gestured to her bed. "Are you going to sleep?"

Skye nodded. "I think so. I have a big day tomorrow."

"Sweet dreams."

Taylor closed the door over before he left. Skye dropped her head back down onto the pillow, let her eyes flutter shut. As the arms of sleep began to wrap around her, a sudden thought gripped her, made her eyes snap wide open. She wondered if Jim had talked to Taylor about what he had discovered. Her heart raced in her chest, made it difficult to breathe. If Jim told Taylor what he thought, Lucas was sure to find himself in a world of hurt.

Hadn't Jim told Dr. Shannon not to say anything to Taylor, though? Not until Taylor got his head on straight? The recollection soothed Skye's nerves, but only minutely. As she lay back down, she knew sleep wouldn't come.


	30. Goodbyes

**A/N:** Your reviews are really uplifting! It makes it all the more difficult knowing that this story is going to end soon. Really soon. Sorry. And to think you all want so much from me! I wish I could give you all everything you want from these two characters, I really do. We'll just have to see what happens.

**RISNA**, I hope you didn't get a sick stomach, because I really don't want to be responsible. Lol. I love how you're obsessing over their relationship and the possibility of children. It's all very entertaining. Yes, sometimes the author gives her readers what they want. Which is why I wrote this chapter! Of course, the ending goes entirely against what you all want, but, well…sorry.

**Wren Maxwell**, Pitch Black as in the movie _Pitch Black _with Vin Diesel as the BAMF Richard B. Riddick? If it is, I absolutely _love_ that movie – as well as the sequel. Have you heard about the third installment? They're currently filming it right now. I'm so excited!

**What the face** created another beautiful Lucas/Skye video! Check it out: youtube(.)com/watch?v=eAwefohjZlE

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><p>"The festival's about to start," Josh said, tapping Skye's shoulder. "We should get going."<p>

She nodded, fetched her crutches from the wall. A hand gripped her elbow, startled her. Her hand came up in reflex, but Boylan caught it before it smacked his face. He grinned, let go of her.

"Feisty."

A ghost of a smirk touched Skye's lips. "Watch out. Next time I might actually hit you."

Boylan's eyebrows arched. "Might? I figured it would've been for sure." Plucking the towel off her shoulder, he cocked his head at the door. "Go on, then. And don't come back until tomorrow."

Skye's brow furrowed. "You don't want me working when you reopen?"

"I figured you've been working so hard, you deserve the break." The smile faded from his face. Eyes darting around, he leaned forward, his voice dropping. "I've got my other business going on here tonight, and I don't much like witnesses, if you know what I mean."

Skye nodded in understanding, smirked. "Merry Christmas."

Boylan's eyes sparkled. "Yes, a very merry Christmas indeed." He turned away, muttering to himself, "I can just see the cut I'm getting from tonight's games already in my hands. Thank you Saint Nick."

Chuckling and shaking her head, Skye headed for the door. Josh flanked her side, casting Boylan a curious glance before directing his attention to Skye. She met his gaze, smiled.

"Did you like dinner last night?" Josh asked.

"Yeah, I really did." Skye hauled herself up the last of the steps. "It's been a long time since I've had dinner like that."

A smile tugged at Josh's lips. "You can always have dinner with us."

"Thanks." Skye glanced over at the retreating sun. "They better get that play started fast. The sun's going down fast today."

"Maddy probably already knows that." Josh rolled his eyes. "She's probably got backup lights and everything. You know how she is."

They both chuckled as they made their way over to the center of the festival. Huge Christmas decorations graced the area, hanging from the towers, the fence line, and the stage. People were milling about, scrambling to find good seating so they wouldn't have to stand. Maddy darted around the stage, making last minute changes while the children in the play fidgeted in their costumes. Zoe happened to see Skye approaching; she waved, her face splitting into a beaming grin.

"She really does look like Taylor," Skye said, waving back. "All she needs is his voice."

"Careful," a deep, gruff voice said behind her, "the Commander might just hear you."

Skye smirked, turned around to face Taylor. The lines in his face hadn't smoothed out much since their reconciliation, but his eyes were brighter, and the smile on his face was hard to ignore. He wrapped an arm around Skye's shoulder, led her away from Josh. She managed to smile at him before he joined the rest of his family and Mark. Jim's eyes met hers for a moment, the exuberance in his face fading slightly as concern and suspicion flickered in his pupils. Skye tore her gaze away, heart pounding. Jim would never leave her alone unless he was utterly convinced that nothing had happened. The thought woke the sleeping snake of dread in her stomach.

Taylor sat her up in the front seat beside him. His speech, as usual, would come at the end of the play, so he would need quick access to the stage. It warmed her heart to be sitting beside him again without knowing that he would never forgive her again. As the thought crossed her mind, however, she felt her chest constrict. She glanced down at her hands, looked at the thin scar left by the glass that had cut her when he had almost been caught signaling the Sixers by Jim. She traced the whitened tissue with her finger, used it to remind herself of what she had done. Too bad she could never go back to how things were, not when Lucas was still around and in almost all her waking thoughts.

"Are you working tonight?"

Skye jumped, startled back to reality. Shaking her head, she met Taylor's sky blue eyes. "Boylan gave me the rest of the night off."

"Did he?" Taylor smiled. "I think he has a soft spot for you."

She couldn't help but chuckle. "More like a sore spot, Taylor. He's trying to make sure he stays on your good side."

"With the Sixers gone," Taylor said, returning his attention to the stage, "the only thing he has to worry about me finding out is his gambling operation." He glanced at her, winked.

"He's not really that worried at all," Skye muttered, smirking as she recalled the greedy, excited look in Boylan's eyes before she had left.

A hush came over the crowd as Maddy took center stage. She drew herself up, glanced over the crowd. "Ladies and gentleman," she announced, a smile stretching across her face, "I welcome you to the seventh annual Christmas Festival! Take a seat and enjoy this wonderful play about Christmas time here at Terra Nova."

Almost all the younger children at Terra Nova participated in the skit. Laughter rippled through the crowd as Zoe did her best impression of Taylor while the other child actors cowered onstage, their eyes wide with fright and nervousness. More than once, a child had to be prodded and goaded to spit out his line – and even then it oftentimes came out garbled. The crowd nevertheless chuckled, amused by the children's ill-coordinated antics. Maddy managed to smile through it, though Skye could see the strain in her eyes. To think she had put in all those hours of hard work just to have the children mess it up! But Maddy wasn't one to let that drag her down, because they were children, and she soon perked up and laughed alongside everybody else as the skit progressed.

The sun had set by the time it was the real Taylor's turn to take the stage. Grinning at the children as they were drawn away, he stood on the elevated platform, gazed out at the crowd. Skye could see an immense pride on his face as he looked around, though she was sure he could still see the scars of the Phoenix Group's occupation in Terra Nova. The lines in his face still hadn't gone away, but they hadn't deepened either, and for that Skye was grateful. As much as the Commander wanted things to be perfect, it had definitely taken its toll. The fact that he could stand there and manage to relax for at least one night was comforting. He still was their fearless, awesome leader.

"Christmas has come yet again," he began, his voice ringing out across the silent crowd. "And here we are, surrounded by family and friends." The smile faded, solemnity settling over his features. "January first is only six days away. The new year has much in store for us. It won't be easy, not that it ever was easy, but it'll be much more difficult than anything we've ever had to face." His gaze roamed the faces in the crowd, meeting each and every person's gaze. "That doesn't mean we can lose hope. With the new year comes new surprises, and as we say goodbye to this year, we must remember what has happened. We have all lost loved ones in the past few days, but it does no good for us or for them to let it take us down."

Out of the corner of her eye, Skye saw Josh lower his head, his hand instinctively reaching up to finger his guitar pick. A pang of guilt went through her chest, made her throat constrict. She thought of her mother, who was missing the festivities because she was still too ill to walk. She was sleeping, still trying to recuperate from the fever. Its grip of death lingered, trying to drag her down. Skye glanced away, stared down at the dirt and gravel beneath her feet.

"We owe it to them," Taylor continued, "to be strong. The new year is going to be the most uncertain one yet, but we will make it. We will make Terra Nova live on." He nodded to one of the nearby soldiers, returned his attention back to the crowd. "May this be our best Christmas yet!"

Fireworks exploded not too far off, illuminating the darkened sky with greens, reds, and purples. The children squealed with delight; families and friends embraced each other, the fireworks uplifting their souls and attitudes. Skye wished for just a moment that Lucas was there beside her, that he was there watching the fireworks with her. She let her gaze slide to Taylor. He lingered for a few moments on the stage, a pleased, yet sad smile on his face as he watched the happiness wash over the crowd. When he stepped off the stage, he went to her side.

"I almost thought we wouldn't have Christmas this year," he whispered. "I'm glad we are."

Skye nodded in agreement. "I am, too."

Taylor smiled down at her, crooked his elbow. "Shall we, my lady?"

A chuckle slipped past her lips. Ditching the crutches, she looped her arm through his. "Indeed we shall," she mimicked, her voice as high and proper as she could make it.

They mingled with the crowd as they headed to the stands that really made the festival what it was. Culinary delights graced some of the tables, while intricate handmade trinkets drew the attention of the children. Skye munched on candy that was only available during the festival, since the ingredients were in scarce supply. She bought a few with some terras, secreted them into her pocket when Taylor wasn't looking. Though he was strict with his rules, Taylor let her drink some eggnog. The bitterness of the drink wasn't made any better by the sharp alcohol, but its effect wasn't worth complaining about.

An hour later, Skye pulled Taylor aside, feigning illness. "I'm not feeling so good," she said, passing a hand over her face. "I think it was the eggnog."

Taylor's brow furrowed in concern. "Do you want to go home?"

Skye nodded. "I just need to lay down for a little bit." She managed a weak smile. "Go on and enjoy the festival."

A conflicted look crossed over the Commander's face, but he nodded, planted a kiss on her forehead. "I'll see you in a few hours," he said. He pressed a com into her hand. "Call me if something happens."

Skye hurried home as fast as her injured ankle would allow her. Slipping into Taylor's house, she headed into his study. It wasn't particularly large, but it took her a while to locate what she was looking for. When she found it, she hooked it over her shoulder, tucked it beneath her arm. Hopefully Taylor wouldn't notice its absence – it wasn't like it was his, anyway.

Skye double-backed around the festival. Her ankle protested very little as she hurried across the ground, as she darted between buildings once again. The guard at the brig was once again distracted, his gaze directed at the festivities. A frown tugged at his lips; no doubt he was envious of all his other fellow soldiers who weren't stuck guarding the Commander's psychotic son. She scurried forward, dropped into the grasses growing beside the grate behind the brig. Tugging at the metal, she slipped down into the shaft, crawled to the opening inside the facility. The grate swung open again on oiled hinges.

"Lucas," she whispered, dropping down to the floor, "where are you?"

As always, he materialized out of the shadows, leapt forward to embrace her. His lips crushed against hers before she had a chance to react. When he pulled away, she was startled to find herself breathless. She always wondered how he could do that to her time and time again.

"I told you I'd come see you," she said, smiling softly.

"I didn't realize it would be this soon." Lucas returned the smile. "Aren't you supposed to be working at the bar?"

Skye shook her head. "He let me off for the rest of the night. It's the Christmas Festival." She fished the candy out of her pocket. "I brought you something."

"For me?" His eyes twinkled, a smirk replacing the smile on his lips. Taking the candy from her, he popped one into his mouth, savored the taste. "I'd almost forgotten what these tasted like."

"They're my favorite." Skye watched him munch on the candies. She fingered the strap hanging off her shoulder. "I, um, also brought you something else."

Lucas's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Are you always this generous at Christmas?"

Skye didn't respond. She handed the object beneath her arm to Lucas. He stared down at it, the mirth fading from his face. When he glanced back up, Skye could see the confusion and conflict within his eyes. She ran a hand through her hair, found herself fidgeting with the bracelet around her wrist again.

"You'll need it," she explained, unable to meet his gaze, "when you're out there in the forest again."

Lucas shifted, his eyes glancing between her and the object in his hands. "I'd have to escape."

After a moment, Skye nodded, managed to bring her gaze up to meet his. "You can fit through the grate. The shaft is huge. You'd have no problem climbing through." She swallowed thickly. "You'd have to do it tomorrow night when everybody's asleep. The fence is only a few yards away. Duck under the bars and you're free."

Lucas set aside the gun, worry clouding over his features. "And you?"

Skye shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it right now." She stepped forward, looked up into his face. "It's your only chance, Lucas. If you don't take it, you'll be stuck in here forever. I don't know how much longer I can keep sneaking in here to see you. For all you know, Taylor might lock you up in the hold. Once that happens, I'll never get in to see you."

The hold, where Boylan had been interrogated by Taylor during the Sixer spy search, was located within the command center – literally right beneath the Commander's desk. Getting in to see Lucas would be impossible, especially if Taylor was around. The thought was one of the reasons Skye had brought the gun to Lucas and had told him how to escape. It would be better to never see him again but know he was out somewhere in the forest than to never see him again and have him right there under her nose. The pain of knowing would be too great for Skye – and it would be all the more painful for Lucas.

"What about you?" Lucas asked again, his eyes searching hers.

She shook her head a second time. "I don't want to talk about it," she repeated. Reaching up, she pressed her lips to his. It was the first time she had kissed him.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as they sought comfort in each other. The kissing grew more and more passionate, their tongues fighting for dominance. Lucas pulled away, trailed kisses down Skye's neck, nibbled on the sensitive spot there. She moaned quietly, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. They fell to the floor, their hands roaming over each other's bodies like they had before in the forest beside the fire. Their clothes were gone in almost an instant, cast aside as their desperation and passion knocked all the wits out of their heads.

Skye pushed him onto his back, straddled him. She ground her hips into his, eliciting a deep moan from Lucas. He kept his eyes trained on her as she trailed her hands down his stomach, as she undid his belt and pulled down his pants. Their eyes never left each other's as they made love on the cold, stony floor. Grunts and moans bounced off the walls, the desperation intensifying the experience as they tried to memorize each other's bodies, knowing that this would be the last time they ever made love. New bruises replaced the old ones as they climaxed, their bodies shuddering as they were swept away by the sensations.

The cold gradually seeped into their skin as they lay there cradled in each other's arms. Skye traced patterns on Lucas's chest, tears threatening to spill over her eyelids. She wiped them away, refusing to cry. Lucas held her tightly, his thumb caressing her side. He pressed his lips to her forehead, let them hover above the skin. She heard him inhaling deeply, as if he were taking in her scent one last time. Skye let her eyes flutter close, tried to immerse herself in the moment. Her desperation still clung to her, though not with the same intensity as before. Lucas had managed to remedy that to some extent, but knowing that it was their last time only made Skye's chest tighten.

"Come with me," Lucas suddenly said, his voice breaking the silence.

Skye swallowed thickly, shook her head. "I can't," she whispered.

"Please." His voice was on the verge of begging. "We can live out there together, just you and me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The thickness of his emotion made Skye's vision water with tears. "We wouldn't have to worry about a thing."

"Taylor would find us." She gripped him closer to her. "He'd notice I was gone right away. If you leave, he won't know until the next day. You'll be long gone by then."

Silence.

"I'm not going back to the Sixers," Lucas told her. Skye felt her chest swell with pride. "I'll just be out in the forest." He shifted, his hand reaching up to lift her chin. She met his spring green eyes. "I'll come back for you."

She shook her head again, bit her lip. "No, you can't. The moment you step foot on Terra Nova, Taylor will kill you. I'm sure of it."

Lucas propped himself up onto one elbow, stared hard into her eyes. "I _will_ come back for you," he promised. "I'm not letting my father keep me from you."

A single tear slid down Skye's cheek. Lucas rubbed it away with his thumb, leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. It was a deep, long kiss, one that connected them more than the sex ever could. Skye suppressed the urge to cry despite the intense burning behind her eyes. They held each other for a little while longer until the watch on Skye's wrist said it was eleven o'clock. Fighting tears, she put her clothes back on, helped Lucas into his. She could see the grief in his eyes, which only made things worse.

They kissed one last time before Skye hauled herself up into the shaft. As the grate closed behind her, she turned around. "Lucas!" He appeared below her, stared up into her eyes. She swallowed thickly, her voice just above a whisper. "I – I love you."

A sad smile tugged at Lucas's lips. "I love you, too."

She made it back to Taylor's house without getting caught. She dropped down onto her bed, buried her face in her pillow, but sleep wouldn't come. Taylor's footsteps rang across the wood at midnight. He went to her door, whispered her name, but Skye didn't respond. He disappeared into his own bedroom; soon his soft snores drifted to Skye's ears.

She got up and went to the bathroom. It wasn't until she realized that her period had started that she let the tears fall.

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><p>P.S. Yeah, I know, it definitely wasn't the hot and steamy brig sex you all wanted, but seeing as I already wrote their first sexual experience back in the forest, I figured I didn't have to basically write the same thing here. Use your imagination, lol!<p>

P.P.S. I know you all wanted her to have Lucas-Skye babies, but I didn't think that was right for the story. And **Sarasrii**, technically it takes a man twenty-four hours to regenerate viable sperm, so after the first ejaculation, the rest of his ejaculations before that time period are full of sterile sperm. So, technically, Skye has only had two chances to get pregnant. Personally, I'm really unsure about the entire matter, but that's what my biology teacher told me, so I don't know. *shrugs* Lol. Correct me if I'm wrong!


	31. Not the Same

**A/N:** Well, I did it. School starts tomorrow – and here I present to you all the final chapter in _The Traitor and The Pariah_. I'm truly sad to let this story go, but it must end – as all good stories must end.

**Sarasii**, roflmao. That's exactly what I said, but I was too lazy to look it up myself. Thanks for the clarification! Your review made my day, believe me. I couldn't stop laughing.

**FloridaGirl11**, I think I saw the same video once! I distinctly remember her dropping the bag and all the embrassment. Rofl.

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><p>Reynolds came bursting into Boylan's bar, something akin to panic in his eyes. "Lucas Taylor has escaped," he shouted. "Commander Taylor wants everybody on the perimeter – <em>now<em>."

Chairs scraped and toppled over as the soldiers in the bar made for their weapons and the fence line. Josh's eyes widened, anger and disbelief mingling across his face. He darted out with the rest of the soldiers, shouting something to Boylan about looking for his dad to understand what was going on. Skye remained behind the bar, her eyes trained on the wood beneath her hands. She felt a presence behind her, didn't dare turn around to face who it was.

The bar had completely emptied by the time Boylan spoke.

"Who would've thought Taylor's son could've escaped?" The sarcasm in his voice was overpowered by the seriousness that followed thereafter. "He may be a genius and all, but he would've needed help for that one."

Skye didn't respond. She busied herself with lining up the cups and glasses beneath the bar counter for easy access. Boylan's hand touched her shoulder.

"What really happened out there with Taylor's son?"

The same question, only this time Skye wasn't sure she could give him the same answer. She remained quiet, but the trembling in her hands gave her away. She set aside one of the glasses, winced as it rattled against the wood in response to the emotions rolling through her. She shook her head.

"I fell in love with him," she whispered. She heard Boylan inhale sharply, though she was sure the man had already known. "I even had sex with him."

Boylan was silent. Skye's vision blurred. She hadn't cried since she had said goodbye to Lucas. Two days had almost come and gone, and she hadn't shed a single tear. Yet they came then, when nobody but Boylan was around to see them. They streamed down her face, dripped onto the counter. She turned around, buried her face into Boylan's shoulder. His arms went around her and hugged her close after a moment. All her fears and worries about telling someone dissipated as she held onto Boylan for dear life. She didn't make a sound, but the tears stained the front of his shirt.

"Are you pregnant?" he dared to ask once Skye had quieted down.

She shook her head. "Lucky me, huh?" She forced a smile, wiped away the tears. "I have nobody to turn to, Boylan. I can't tell Jim because he'll tell Taylor. Taylor will never forgive me if he finds out."

Boylan placed his hands on her shoulders, offered her a soft smile. "Well, you can turn to me. I'll never say a word."

Skye couldn't help but laugh, though it was a rather harsh sound. "You better not," she said, a faint smile on her lips, "or I'll show Taylor your record books of the games."

The smile widened into a grin across Boylan's face. "Ah, blackmail. Can't seem to live without it these days."

"Nope," Skye agreed. Passing a hand over her face, she propped her elbows on the counter, buried her face in her hands. "At least he's safe now."

"Who, Taylor's son?" Boylan circled around the bar, sat down at one of the stools to face her. His voice dropped, hesitant. "You know he's going to come back." Skye nodded. "Him and his father are never going to get over their problems."

"No, they aren't," Skye agreed after a while, "but they both have me, and that's at least one thing they can agree on."

As if on cue, Commander Taylor and Jim appeared at the doorway at the top of the stairs. All the unease and dread that Skye had momentarily forgotten came flooding over her. The blood left her face as she noticed the look of hurt and frustration in Taylor's face, as she noticed the tightness of Jim's jaw. She swallowed thickly, felt Boylan shift closer to her.

"I don't suppose I can interest either of you in a drink…?" A smirk pulled at his lips, but the concern in his eyes gave him away.

Jim was the first to move down the steps. He came right up to Skye, his own eyes reflecting pity and disbelief. "Where is he?"

Skye forced her brow to furrow, managed to force her voice box to work. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"My son." Taylor flanked Jim's side, his eyebrows knitting together. "Where is he?"

Skye shook her head, found it difficult to breathe. "How would I know?"

"The guard said he saw you hanging around the brig the other day," Jim said, his voice firm but cautious, "_without_ your escort." He leaned forward. "Did you help him escape?"

A thin bead of sweat trickled down the back of Skye's neck. Before she could reply, Boylan spoke up behind her. "I don't know what you gentlemen are thinking, but Skye has been with me the whole time." He placed a protective hand on her shoulder, much to Skye's surprise. "How's she supposed to help him escape, anyway? You can't just go into the brig without anybody noticing."

Jim pulled back. Sighing, he turned to Taylor. "He's right," he said, voice quiet despite the suspicion still in his face. "Nobody came within fifty feet of the brig in the past day."

The Commander's brow furrowed, the lines in his face ten times deeper than when he had discovered Skye was the Sixer spy. She could see the conflict in his eyes; he so desperately wanted to believe that she hadn't helped, but the look on his face suggested that he couldn't get past the fact that Lucas's escape had to have been an inside job. He looked away from Skye. Her chest tightened. She had only regained his trust back a few days before, and now it seemed that she would lose it again – only forever this time.

"How did he escape?" she heard herself ask, as if she no longer could control her own voice.

Jim was the one who responded. "We don't know. The brig is empty. It's like he just disappeared."

"He's a genius," Taylor growled. He passed a hand over his face, rubbed his jaw. "I should've locked him up in the hold."

Something flickered across Jim's face. Skye's brow furrowed as she saw something akin to an epiphany flashing in his eyes. She was sure he had suddenly thought of the shaft, of the grate buried in the overgrown grass. If they figured out that Lucas had climbed through there, they wouldn't think she had helped him. Taylor was right – Lucas was a genius, and it definitely wouldn't have taken him long to find a way out, even if it meant crawling through an air shaft.

She didn't expect the words that came out of Jim's mouth instead.

"Lucas told me to give you a message the other day," he said, his words careful, slow. Skye's heart tripped.

Taylor's head whipped around, his eyes flashing. "What did he say?" He shook his head, kept Jim from responding. "Why did you go see him?"

Skye's throat constricted, her palms growing clammy as she saw Jim glance at her out of the corner of his eye. He passed a hand over his face, weariness suddenly etching itself into his features. "I went to ask him about Skye."

Taylor's brow furrowed. "What about her?"

Jim glanced at Skye again, couldn't meet her gaze entirely. "There – there's some bruising on Skye that only a human could've made." Taylor visibly tensed, the muscle in his jaw twitching. "I thought Lucas had hurt her, maybe raped her."

For as long as Skye had known him, Commander Nathaniel Taylor had been a man of great composure and control. To see him deteriorate made her heart ache. His hand reached out to grab the bar counter, his legs suddenly unable to keep him standing. The horror on his face, the hurt – it sent icy chills down Skye's spine, made her stomach clench. Jim caught Taylor before he lost his balance, helped ease him into a chair. Skye became aware of Boylan moving around her, of him pouring alcohol into a glass. He placed it down in front of the Commander, said something that Skye didn't hear.

"What has my son become?" he whispered to no one in particular. He stared at the glass in front of him but didn't reach for it.

"He didn't rape me," Skye said. She reached out, hesitated before placing her hand over his. He looked up at her, the despair and anguish in his eyes almost too much for her to bear. "He didn't rape me," she repeated, her voice quiet. "I betrayed him, and I shot him twice, but he didn't kill me. He had a gun and a knife out there, but he didn't kill me." Her voice was so quiet Jim and Boylan had to lean in to hear. "He wasn't the same monster who killed Lieutenant Washington."

Taylor didn't respond, though his eyes fluttered shut. His grip tightened around Skye's hand, holding on as if for dear life. Skye swallowed thickly, glanced up at Jim. The man's eyes were conflicted again, the suspicion still swirling within his pupils, but Skye had the impression that something had clicked within his head. Something suddenly made sense to him.

"What did Lucas say?" Taylor asked. The weariness and strain in his voice wasn't lost on Skye.

Jim cleared his throat. "He said that…things would've been different if you had just accepted him."

Skye's chest swelled with pride, her heart soaring in her chest. Taylor and his son could never truly reconcile, that much she knew, but at least Lucas had made the effort to try and help his father understand the entire situation – to understand why. Taylor passed a hand over his face, his free hand tightening further still around Skye's. She squeezed back with all the comfort she could muster. No matter what Lucas did, the man couldn't bring himself to hate his son – not in the same way Lucas hated him. He could never forgive him, though. As much as that pained Skye to know, she was grateful that Lucas had tried to keep his promise to her.

"_I can change…I'll prove it to you._"

"He told me," she heard herself say, drawing Taylor out of his dark thoughts, "that he wasn't going back to the Sixers. With Hope Plaza destroyed, he isn't a threat anymore."

Taylor shook his head, met her eyes. He let go of her hand. "My son will always be a threat," he said, resigned. He turned to Jim. "Call off the search. We won't find him."

Jim hesitated, his gaze darting once again to Skye. "I think Skye's right, Taylor," he said. "If Lucas escaped without help, then he doesn't have a weapon. He'll die out there."

"I survived without a weapon for 118 days," Taylor said, his voice hard, grave.

"But Lucas isn't you!" Skye was startled by the sound of her own voice. She swallowed thickly as all eyes turned on her. "I spent five days out there with him, and he isn't you, Taylor. He may have survived out there for five years, but he had the Sixers' help. He doesn't have that anymore. Without the weapon, he won't make to the Badlands. Even _with_ a weapon, we almost didn't make it to the Badlands when he kidnapped me."

Taylor didn't say anything, but Skye was sure she saw reluctant agreement in his eyes. He turned away, gestured to Jim. He headed to the door in the same manner he had headed back to the camp after Skye had saved him from his own son – dazed, withdrawn, and hurting. Jim cast one last glance at Skye over his shoulder before following the Commander out the door. Skye exhaled heavily; she hadn't realized she had been holding her breath.

"Things will never be the same," she muttered, glancing down at her hands.

"Skye," Boylan said, drawing her attention, "he won't hold this on you forever. Give him time."

Skye nodded, turned away. "He'll never treat me the same, though."

"Only because you were the spy." Boylan's hand touched her shoulder again, gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Lucas is long gone by now. You have nothing to worry about anymore."

She shook her head, glanced at him. "Except keeping the biggest secret of my life."

After a moment, the bar owner nodded his head in agreement. "Lucky for you," he said, guiding her towards the door, "you've had plenty of practice keeping secrets." Stopping at the top of the steps, he patted her shoulder. "Give it a week or two. Everything will go back to normal as much as possible."

A sigh slipped past her lips. "The only problem is, Boylan," she said, gazing out the door to look at the trees outside the gates, "I'm not the same. I never will be."

* * *

><p>P.S. This is how I originally intended to end my story. I'm sorry that it didn't live up to all your expectations and wants, but this is how I felt is should end. But never fear! It's left enough for a sequel, should I ever get around to writing one. So, who knows? There might be a story in which Lucas comes back to get Skye from Terra Nova in a few months – and then we'll see what happens.<p>

Thank you all for being such wonderful readers!


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